Searching for Silver Lining
by ayelles
Summary: Completed. "In their lives, they didn't want much. Money, love- that all faded. They wanted peace. They wanted out of the gray areas and into the light." Please R&R!
1. 1

Author's Note: This is the sequel to "A Life Better than Expected". It takes place about a month and a half after the season finale.  
  
XXX  
  
"Hey Ryan," the voice was warm and friendly. "You're up late." Kirsten Cohen was standing in the blackness of the summer night dressed only in her thin nightgown. In the backyard of her sprawling Newport estate, she stared at the seventeen year old boy she had adopted. He was currently trying to hide the cigarette in his left hand. Seeing that she already noticed it, he sheepishly shrugged.  
  
"Sorry." He said the word but the expression wasn't in his face or his tone. In fact, there was no expression on hip at all. He was just there.  
  
"Ryan," she was ready to tell him off, explain the house rules and the health consequences all over again. But she didn't. Instead, she picked the cigarette from in between his fingers and took a drag herself. She grinned slightly as the boy's mouth fell slightly, in a look of slight shock. Kirsten wasn't actually a smoker and never had been, but like most people, she had gone through some serious partying as a teenager. This was the first time since Seth started grade school that she had a cigarette to her lips. The dark taste lingered on her tongue, invading her pearly whites and delicate throat. It was exactly what she needed now.  
  
"I didn't know you-"Ryan tried to explain his shock, but Kirsten wouldn't let him. She just shook her head, letting the mass of blonde-brown hair collapse around her shoulders. Returning the cigarette, she crossed her arms across her chest, protecting herself from the light breeze. Though the summer heat was ever present, the ocean still brought relief in slight ways. The breeze was one of them.  
  
Kirsten didn't know what to say at that moment, her eyes were so concentrated on the black abyss in front of her. The night was her time when neither her son nor her husband could interrupt her thoughts. It was only on nights when she couldn't stand all the many notions in her head that she stood out in the backyard and watched the night. Feeling silly, she never told anyone of this habit. But when she suffered setbacks in her work, Seth troubled her and Sandy didn't understand, Kirsten turned to the night to save her sanity.  
  
"Are you okay?" Ryan expressed his worry for his guardian.  
  
"Just had a lot on my mind."  
  
"I know the feeling." He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his worn blue jeans. "Theresa." That was all the explanation Kirsten needed. It had been over two weeks since Ryan and his girlfriend had lost their child. It had been that long since Theresa moved to Atlanta. That long since Ryan moved back into the pool house. That long since the house was full of silent sad looks and perpetual "are you okay"'s.  
  
"Me too." That brought Ryan his second surprise of the night. He knew that he had not stopped worrying about his girl- wait, they were no longer dating, but he worried anyway. Each time he looked at a watch or a clock, he quickly added the time difference and imagined what she would be doing. She left two weeks ago and he had received only a single phone call. It wasn't even a meaningful call. She merely announced that she was okay and settled. She said she missed him, but she didn't include an "I love you" not even after Ryan had said the three solid words.  
  
Kirsten, on the other hand, received quite a few calls from Atlanta in the first days after Theresa had left. Though she didn't want to admit it, Kirsten was Theresa's only confidant in the whole pregnancy. Theresa's own mother rejoiced when the baby was lost- there would be no illegitimate grandchild to be ashamed of. Kirsten was open, accepting and in Theresa's eyes, perfect. Shuffling her feet slightly to the left, Kirsten stood as close to Ryan as she could without touching. They were connected. Both scared and worried. Both missing a girl across the country. Both desperately wanting Theresa to come back.  
  
XXX  
  
"Hello?" Summer Roberts answered her cell phone impatiently. She was sitting on a bathroom floor in her Waldorf-Astoria suite in New York City. Though she only planned a two-week trip, the incessant pleadings of her best friend forced her to extend her trip another week. Summer, though always willing to prove her friendship to the lovely Marissa Cooper, was annoyed at the idea of having to spend another seven days with her increasingly drunk friend.  
  
"Summer? Hey, its me."  
  
"Cohen!" Seth's face began to fill with a slight pink color as he heard his ex-girlfriend happily exclaim his name. On the other end of the line, Summer scolded herself for saying his name so excitedly. She dumped him less than a month ago for the unforgivable sin of running away to Ecuador and only leaving a single hurried hand-written note. But the sound of his voice, now more than ever, brought a comforting warmth to her, like hot cocoa after a long day in the snow. She wanted so much to see him. To be able to rush to JFK Airport now and take the first flight back to Newport. But she couldn't. Marissa needed her.  
  
"How are you? How's New York?"  
  
"It's..." Summer turned to her right, where Marissa was vomiting about a gallon of various alcoholic beverages into the toilet. "Good!" She plastered a fake smile on her face just to prove herself right. The smile soon disappeared when she realized Seth couldn't see her.  
  
"Really?" His face mouth began to turn more and more into a pronounced frown listening to her joyful voice. He was happy that she was happy. But, Jesus/Moses, why couldn't she be happy there with him?  
  
"Uh, yeah. You should seriously consider coming here sometime. It's completely fab!"  
  
"Yeah? Well, I'll think about that so-"he hear an abnormal groan in the background before Summer cut him off.  
  
"Really, that's great. Think about it, Cohen! Gotta go. Bye!" Summer said all in one breath. Seth's frown grew even more at the rushed brush off. What was going on? Before the dial tone began to beep in his ear, Seth could make out the muffled sound of Summer's voice saying, "C'mon Coop, it'll be okay. Puke more." 


	2. 2

_**Author's Note:** I'm not sure where I'm going with this story. Making the plot up as I go along. Hope it sounds good. Please review. I completely appreciate every comment that you have. More to come soon. Can you tell I've been bored this summer? Happy readings!_  
  
XXX  
  
A shrill sound filled the pool house and though he only had a towel wrapped around his waist, he dove under the bed to retrieve the backpack. Tossing the bag on the bed in front of him, he pulled the cell phone the Cohens gave him out and pressed the green button to answer before even looking at the screen to see who the call was from. If he had bothered to do so, he would have realized that the call was not the one he had been waiting for all week. It was actually a different girl entirely.  
  
"Hello? Theresa?" Ryan asked anxiously into the receiver.  
  
"Uh, no! Chino, don't you have caller ID?" Summer wrinkled her brow as her pouty raspberry colored lips formed into a frown. Without knowing it, Ryan immediately imitated the expression at the realization that it was Summer on the other end of the line and not Theresa. "Summer?" He asked dully before a sudden ray of hope fell upon his head, perhaps Summer was with Theresa and... Ryan shook his head so hard that the wet locks of blonde hair fell into his face. Summer with Theresa. Maybe he was getting to desperate to see or at least hear from his girlfriend. His mind was certainly being diluted.  
  
"Yeah, Chino. Not Theresa." She tapped her French manicured nails against the pink plastic casing of the Nokia phone she was currently holding. Ugh, Chino. Hurry up and ask me what's up because I really need to ask you-  
  
"What's up, Summer?" The words fell off his lips without any enthusiasm.  
  
"Do you know where the hell Cohen is? Because I just called the house and he's not there and I called his cell and he has no reception. You have to tell him to get a better carrier. But anyway, where is he? Are you with him? I need to talk to him." Summer spoke hurriedly, as if she wasn't allowed to b on the phone and she feared someone would discover her. Ryan had no idea that the person Summer feared was her very best friend and not to mention Ryan's ex-girlfriend, Marissa.  
  
"Sorry, he's not with me. I'll tell him though." Ryan said that not because he wanted to help Summer with her seemingly huge problem, which from what Ryan had learned about Newport girls was probably something as minimal as a chipped nail. He had said that just so that the conversation would end sooner. A smirk appeared on his face as he thought of Summer panicking over a chipped nail but then immediately scolded himself. Though the two of them were never close, Ryan knew better than to insult people without having a good reason to. At least this time he didn't fear a beating because of his insolent thoughts, but then again, Summer was known for her "rage blackouts".  
  
"Okay? Could you please, Ryan? This is really important. Please." Ryan was in slight shock at hearing the pampered princess plead but he promised her he would hunt down Seth at that very moment and make him call her. Something about the way Summer made her problem out to seem so urgent worried Ryan. He was aware that she had extended her trip to New York, but he knew nothing more than that. Perhaps something had happened...?  
  
"Summer, what's wrong? I'll have Seth call you, don't break down before that." He added with humor to lighten the bleak conversation.  
  
"Whatever. I'm definitely not going to!" Summer said defensively. "Marissa could-"She brought her free hand to her face and smacked herself lightly on the forehead. She knew better than to tell Marissa's ex-boyfriend of the current problems, but the words had slipped out anyway. Dammit. "Uh, gotta go Ryan. Bye."  
  
Ryan stared at the phone, still exuding the continuous beeping of the dial tone. Finally he threw it on the bed and got dressed.  
  
XXX  
  
"Theresa! Chica, levantate. Get your ass up! It's Wednesday. We've got to get to church!"  
  
"Eva! Shut up." Theresa rubbed her eyes as she kicked off the blankets that were spread across her long tan legs. Signaling for her cousin to leave her alone, she rolled unto her stomach and shut her eyes again.  
  
"Tess. It's Wednesday. You know I always go to church on Wednesday mornings." Slightly frustrated with her younger cousin's stubbornness, Eva pulled the pillow from under Theresa's face in one swift sweep.  
  
"Hey!" Theresa sat up and snatched the pillow back. "Go without me. C'mon Eva. I'm tired. I've been working non-stop since I got here. I need some rest before my shift later. Please Eva, please. You pray enough for the both of us." Her whining was childish, but the effort she had thrown into her work the past few weeks were anything but. Even Eva had to attest to that. Theresa, though still reeling from the loss of her child, had been completely enthusiastic about mopping floors and clearing tables at the diner down the block.  
  
"Okay, Tess. I'm going. Take care okay?" Eva leaned in and kissed her cousin on the cheek. It was a cruel job offer that forced Eva's family to move away from Chino when she was eleven, only a year after Theresa was born. The mother's of the two girls were not only sisters but they were close friends as well, and despite distance the two girls maintained a shallow yet happy friendship.  
  
"Okay. Bye." With the second word still fleeing her throat, Theresa had flung herself back on the bed and shut her eyes quickly. She never wanted to admit to her cousin, or anyone in that case, that the reason she treasured her sleep so much was that because in those moments when she wasn't working or cleaning or doing other thankless tasks, she wasn't in Atlanta anymore. She was somewhere else completely. Not in Chino, not in Newport, but on a beach somewhere. There with warm grains of ivory sand beneath their feet, she would be standing with Ryan. His arms encircling her waist, his hands on her hands in content unity. And the two of them would watch the sand in front of them, as their precious baby girl took her first steps into the ocean.  
  
Waking up was the worst part of Theresa's day. Every time her eyes revealed her Atlanta room, her heart broke again. It wasn't that she disliked the place or the people, but everyday without Ryan and their baby? The pain was a steaming white fireball inching its way through her heart.  
  
XXX  
  
"Hey Mom," Seth greeted his mother as he entered their kitchen where she stood, still in work clothes drinking a tall glass of orange juice. It was obvious that she was trying to hide something, but her son couldn't figure out what it was. And he had previously almost ruined his relationship with his father due to his suspicions of an affair. So, despite his rising level of curiosity, he chose to flush the visions of his mother nervously staring at the phone out of his mind.  
  
"Hey Seth, where have you been?" Kirsten asked of her son, though it was quite obvious what he had been doing. Plainly, he stood in front of her with his hair just slightly wet and radiating the sweet salt scent of the sea.  
  
"Sailing. Duh." Seth rolled his eyes in reply. "You should know by now that summer is about sailing. You've only been my mom for, hm, seventeen years!" He added the last comment with his classic sarcastic smile which forced a tiny laugh out of Kirsten, who was still anxiously glancing at the phone every few seconds. She willed it to ring, so that she could speak to Theresa and have some peace of mind. "That's good, honey. Now-"she stopped her sentence short as Ryan entered the room, it was the first time she had seen him up at this time since he returned from Chino. "Hey Ryan."  
  
"Hi." He said shortly to Kirsten, trying to forget that she had caught him smoking only a few nights ago. Turning to Seth, he reached over and grabbed the milk carton. "Uh, Seth. Summer called. Said to call her. Sounded kind of important." As soon as the words left his lips, he began gulping down the glass of milk he had poured for himself. Kirsten tried to remember the last time she saw him eat a meal.  
  
The phone finally rang just as Seth began to bombard Ryan with an array of questions about Summer's phone call. He asked everything from what time she called to what color shirt he should wear when he called her back. As Ryan began to explain to his so-called brother that Summer would not be able to judge his shirt through the telephone, Kirsten picked up the cordless phone and headed to the dining room.  
  
"Hello, Cohen residence." She answered politely.  
  
"Mrs. Cohen?" Kirsten smiled in relief, it was Theresa. A split second later though, the smile vanished and was replaced with a troubled look of worry. "Uh, something's wrong Mrs. Cohen. And I'm waiting for the paramedics. Can you... I know this is completely ridiculous, but... You see, my cousin's busy with her own life... And..."  
  
"I'll be there tomorrow." Kirsten replied before Theresa was able to ask the question. Theresa's lips attempted to smile before dizziness took over and everything went black. 


	3. 3

_**Author's note:**_ **Warning- Dark chapter.** _The first two segments in this chapter explain portions of the previous chapter._  
  
XXX  
  
"I hate what this is doing to you."  
  
Silence.  
  
"I hate what you're doing to yourself."  
  
More silence.  
  
"Dammit, Marissa, I'm your best friend. Remember? Hello? Since we wore matching Hello Kitty headbands and Cinderella slippers! Come on, why won't you listen to me? You've got to stop. Stop or else." Summer was yelling adamantly. Though she still cared about who heard, she knew no one would. It was four in the morning; no sane people were awake at this time. Yet, she and Marissa stood in the vast bathroom of their New York suite.  
  
"Or else what?" Marissa laughs. It doesn't sound like the joyful healthy laughter that used to escape her. Now, her laugh has turned into an empty echo. It sounds thin and hollow, just the way she feels. Fuck, maybe I should have locked the door. That was the only coherent thought sliding its way through Marissa's brain. The rest of the matter inside her skull was diluted, delusional and slurred. Her tiny stomach flipped. Silently she listed down what she had consumed today. An apple, two Martinis, peanuts, a Long Island iced tea, four tequila shots and- there was more. She just couldn't remember it. Green fairies hovered above her eyes and all she could think of was the wasted white powder that Summer had just thrown into the toilet.  
  
"You don't want to know." Summer's eyes shrink into tiny slants as she throws a towel at Marissa. Filled with a Hell sent rage, she storms out of the bathroom, out of the suite and out of the hotel into the heat of the New York dawn. She wants to shake this whole night out of her head. Out of her memory permanently. She didn't just walk in on her best friend inhaling cocaine. She didn't just slap Marissa. She didn't. But she did.  
  
XXX  
  
Theresa was awakened by a banging on the front door. Shaking off all remaining memories of her dream, she rolls off the bed and covers herself demurely in a dark green robe. The violent banging on the door never stopped. Vision still covered in slumber, she saw the blurry outline of a man as she peered into the peephole. She didn't notice the rage in his eyes or the strength with which his fist slammed against the hard wood of the door. She didn't know why she answered the door.  
  
Fingers twisting to undo each lock, her arms shook as the pounding of the door vibrated unto her muscles. Opening the door wide, she stood in the presence of a man she didn't recognize. He towered over her, a whole head taller than her. And before she could open her mouth to ask who he was, his Frisbee sized palm attached itself to her neck.  
  
"Where's Eva?! Where??" The gruff tone of the man proved to Theresa that he wasn't acting. Or kidding. He was serious. He was frightening. Looking into his eyes, she noticed that they were not only full of rage, they were full of drugs. His pupils were dilated, proving to her that he wasn't acting out of his will. This didn't provide any solace as she continued to gasp for air.  
  
When he finally released his iron grip on her throat, she hunched over and swallowed the air in huge mouthfuls. Realizing that she still hadn't answered him to where Eva was, the man lifted a Size 22 boot and kicked Theresa in the midsection. Pain. Bright shooting sparks of it emanated from her stomach. The world was tipping over, the ground approached her face, her back kissed the ground. Eyes flickered open and shut in pain. Flashes of an angry face. An angry fist. Her cheek met the ground and his fist met her jaw. Snap. There was surprisingly no pain after that first punch. Her skin had numbed itself, her muscles naturally curled her body into a ball. Trying to protect as much as possible. Finally, the attack stopped. She heard a deep growl resembling the word "Fuck". Then there were footsteps.  
  
"Tell Eva Damon came. And if she doesn't pay soon, she's going to look like you." He whispered the words into her face, hot, alcohol scented breath across her cheek. One final brutal kick to her leg, in the tender hollow behind her knee, before he took off. She listened to the sound of the large man running. It wasn't footsteps or pitter-patter like rain against tin. It was heavy lingering thuds punishing the ground. Punishing the ground over and over again, just as he had punished her body.  
  
Finally, when she was sure that he had gone, she maneuvered herself back to her room. Slowly, inch by inch she covered the ground. There was far too intense a pain in her knee to even attempt to stand. Crawling, relying on her little arm strength, she reached her room and groped at the table for a phone. Nine. One. One. Some asshole just beat me up. Help.  
  
Releasing the strain in her neck, she let her head crash against the ground.  
  
Minutes pass. Tick tick tick. The second hand continues to move on the clock of the wall. She inches her way closer to it, to measure how much longer she will have to wait for the paramedics. Her arm brushes against something other than the floor. Paper. It has Kirsten Cohen's number on it.  
  
XXX  
  
"Cohen residence. This is Seth, what can I do you for?" Seth answered the phone happily. His mood reflected the irritatingly bright sunshine that came pouring through the pool house doors. Lying on Ryan's bed, he had been reading his favorite copy of The Punisher. Ryan, who was lying fast asleep on the floor, was completely oblivious to the phone ringing, the sunshine or the fact that Seth was on his bed. They had been talking after breakfast, discussing the odd call Kirsten had received, but Ryan after countless yawns, finally fell asleep on the floor. It had Seth confused, but he soon realized that Ryan probably didn't sleep at night.  
  
"Uh, is Ryan, Ryan Atwood, there?" It was a male voice, sounding more sad than dangerous. Seth kicked Ryan gently. The blonde boy stirred and his eyes fluttered but they closed again.  
  
"Sorry, man. He's asleep. Can he call you back?"  
  
"Can you wake him up? It's an emergency." The man's voice became more urgent, pleading even. Seth, confused but knowledgeable about Ryan's previous life without the Cohens, decided that this could be of much importance to Ryan.  
  
"Hold up." Seth said as he rested the phone on the bed. Leaning down, he shook Ryan's shoulder. Urging him into wakefulness, Seth handed Ryan the phone and sat back to listen to at least half the conversation. Unfortunately, Ryan didn't say much. But his eyes said everything. Shock first appeared, followed by disbelief, anger skated through, sat down and never left.  
  
Once done with the conversation, Ryan hurled the phone against the wall. His ears were blocked, oblivious of Seth's outburst. Like a mad dog, he began to walk back and forth through the pool house. Short purposeful strides, stomping the ground with every step, anger dripped from his every movement.  
  
His breath was loud, ragged and shallow. If Seth stared any harder, he would have seen steam flowing from Ryan's nostrils like an enraged dragon. Ryan's arms went rigid, his hands balled themselves into fists, his teeth dug into his lower lip. Seth stayed quiet, watching and waiting for his brother to explode. He knew it would happen.  
  
XXX  
  
"Sandy, I have to go."  
  
"No you don't, Kirsten. She's not your responsibility."  
  
"Just like Ryan wasn't yours?"  
  
"I was his lawyer."  
  
"I was her friend."  
  
"You barely knew the kid."  
  
"I'm going, Sandy. That's final."  
  
Door slam. 


	4. 4

Seth didn't quite know why he was in the driver's seat of the Range Rover on the way to Chino, but then again, he had Ryan right next to him. It took quite a lot of screaming on Seth's part to finally get his brother to snap out of the range induced trance he was in. The moment that Ryan started talking in rational sentences again, he repeated the same one over and over again. Theresa's in the hospital, I've got to talk to Eddie.  
  
So that's what they were doing now, Ryan would probably run over anything and everything in his way and Seth, being the responsible one, strapped Ryan into the front seat, took the keys and jumped unto the freeway. It was the first time Seth realized just how far Chino was from Newport. And about halfway to Pomona, he realized that he had no idea where he really was. When he finally called Ryan's name loud enough, Ryan gave him all the necessary directions and eventually, they ended up on the porch of Eddie's house. Seth got the creeps from just standing there. This was the house of the same guy that attacked Ryan at his grandfather's party, the same out that gave Theresa a black eye. Why the hell were they there?! But Seth knew the answer, it was all about Theresa. Looking at Ryan's face, a mask of worry and concern, Seth knew. The same that it had always been Summer for Seth, it would always be Theresa for Ryan.  
  
"Eddie?" Ryan called out. "Hey, you've got to tell me what Eva said about Theresa. Please." He's scared, its obvious. Those two men shouldn't be standing around talking about that girl, or women at all. In the back of his mind, Ryan knew that he had done a despicable thing to Eddie: stolen his girl.  
  
"Look, I told you all I know. Some ex-boyfriend that Eva borrowed money from beat her up. She's in a hospital and it doesn't look good. She's going to need knee surgery and there's internal bleeding." Eddie said, looking glum. "Eva called me because she thought we were still... you know." The last sentence hung in the air, refusing to be acknowledged.  
  
"Are you sure? Nothing else?" Ryan's voice begged for more information. He couldn't have come all the way to Chino just to hear the same thing he heard on the phone.  
  
"That's all I know. You can talk to her mom, though." Eddie looked worn out too. It was obvious he still cared for Theresa. Though Ryan swore that he would never let Eddie in the presence of his girl again. His girl. An all too familiar stab of pain presented itself in Ryan's chest.  
  
"Okay. Thanks." Ryan said awkwardly, dragging Seth back into the car.  
  
"To Theresa's old house?" Seth asked helpfully.  
  
"No. Just home." It was the sound of surrender.  
  
XXX  
  
It was almost seven in the morning when Summer finally got off the park bench at Central Park. She had been sitting there for almost three hours, since the time she left Marissa at the hotel room. Never a morning person, Summer took it to find the most comfortable spot in the park to sit on and catch a few extra moments of sleep. But she didn't. She just sat and watched the sky, the grass, the morning runners, the sun creeping its way gently into the sky. Most of all, she thought.  
  
In their freshman year of high school, Marissa and Summer were scared out of their minds. Like all incoming freshmen, they believed the horror stories of seniors using them as slaves, stuffing them in lockers and throwing all their homework in the trash. It was also the same time that Marissa was facing a new fear- becoming serious and exclusive with Luke.  
  
The pair was together as soon as they were old enough not to be afraid of cooties. Luke was the sweet sporty guy and Marissa was his cute smiley girl. They held hands sometimes. They had gone to all the Junior High dances together. He always gave her a huge card on Valentines. But going into high school together? First, Marissa feared that Luke would want the chance to start seeing other girls- cheerleaders, upperclassmen. Then she feared that Luke would want to become serious. Really serious. Intimate.  
  
Summer sat back and applied new coats of Princess Pink to her nails. She reassured her best friend that Luke was a good guy and that the two of them would be able to work things out. Summer told Marissa that if Luke would give Marissa up for the chance at a ditzy blonde in a short skirt with pom poms then Luke didn't deserve her. But the one thing that Summer reiterated over and over and over again was that no matter how many guys they dated, who the guys were, how the guys treated them, what the guys looked like- they would never be alone. Marissa and Summer would share all problems, support each other completely and supply love and comfort whenever. They were friends. Best friends. Life long friends. Nothing would ever change that.  
  
Or so they promised.  
  
Now Marissa was snorting coke and Summer was alone in Central Park. Summer felt defeated. She had been trying to help her friend get over Ryan Atwood since he left to take care of his pregnant ex, who apparently was not an ex anymore. But despite all the brunette's offers for bonding trips, spa weekends and parties full of young, hot, desirable men, Marissa continued to wallow in her sea of self pity and grief. When the chance to really spend some quality time together arose, they were in a bigger mess than Summer could have imagined.  
  
XXX  
  
Ryan and Seth had just crossed the threshold to enter their own home once again, when they stumbled over a large suitcase. Both boys took a step back to evaluate what was in front of them. A large black suitcase, Seth knew that it was definitely his mom's, sat nonchalantly in the foyer of the Cohen house. Voices were prominent in the house, but they were far away from where the boy's stood and neither could tell who was speaking.  
  
After what seemed like eons of just standing at the door, Seth finally pushed the suitcase aside and walked into the house. "Mom!" he called out. "HEY MOM!" He stood plainly in the middle of the living room, not bothering to go any further to look for his mother. As an only child, he learned at a very early age that when he made enough noise, his mother would show up. It wasn't being spoiled or insensitive to his mother, that's just the way Seth grew up. He was aware that not everyone was like him, but because he was who he was, he lived his life the way Seth Cohen had learned to- as the only child of Sandy and Kirsten. That included enough comic books, sailing trips, annoying fancy occasions and everything in between that Seth wanted or needed. Except a brother. But that happened anyway.  
  
"Yeah, honey?" Kirsten came into the room in a comfortable pair of jeans and a white shirt that was only buttoned halfway. She quickly finished up the buttons as she came towards Seth.  
  
"What's with the suitcase?" His eyes got wide as he pointed to the intrusive piece of luggage that Ryan stood next to.  
  
"Oh, I've got a little business to take care of on the East Coast-"  
  
"Can I come?" Ryan's voice piped up out of nowhere before Kirsten could even explain where she was going. Mild shock made their way through the expressions of both Seth and Kirsten. It actually took a while for Seth to connect the words "East Coast" to Theresa. But after all, they had just spent the whole morning worrying about the girl in Atlanta.  
  
"You don't even know where I'm going." Kirsten explained, despite the fact that she knew that Ryan was thinking of seeing the same girl she was.  
  
"It doesn't matter, I need to get to Atlanta." Ryan pleaded. "I have enough money saved up to pay for a ticket. I'll just drive with you to the airport now..."  
  
"Hey Mom, where are you going anyway?" Seth asked.  
  
Kirsten explained quietly that she had some business to take care of in Washington D.C. but she had also heard about Theresa's condition, so she decided to head to Atlanta first. Ryan was annoyed at his guardian for considering going to Atlanta without him, especially knowing the condition of Theresa. But he was only upset for a few minutes, Kirsten quickly explained that she intended for Ryan to go with her. It was a lie on Kirsten's behalf, but she knew how much trouble she would be in with Ryan if she denied him the trip.  
  
Allowing the boys to get packed, since after all, Seth insisted on going along, Kirsten quickly called the airline and reserved two more first class tickets to Atlanta. It would be a long flight, stopping over at JFK in New York for over an hour, but it would get all three of them to Atlanta and hopefully to Theresa before nightfall. Anxiety and excitement filled the house.  
  
Sandy was working late. Again.  
  
XXX  
  
Purples and blues and greens patterned themselves around Theresa's cheek, ribs and left leg. Her knee was wrapped securely in a brace to prevent movement and a dark green cast was molded to her right wrist, aiding in the restoration of her fractured joint. The doctors were actually surprised that there initial hypotheses of hemorrhaging and internal bleeding were wrong. Asides from the severe damage to her knee and wrist, along with a whole lot of bruising, Theresa was okay. Dr. Carlton sighed in relief. Bones were easy to mend, but if they had to do surgery on her internal organs, he was afraid that she might not have survived it. He watched her, asleep on her bed as noon sunlight flooded the room, and wondered where her family was. 


	5. 5

**Author's Note**: _I feel so bad for doing that to Theresa. But things will work out, no worries. Love you dearly for the reviews, please keep em coming. Your feedback really helps. Sorry it took so long to update. Oh and in case you didn't know, I don't own the characters (except Damon & Jameson) or_ The O.C_.  
_  
XXX  
  
Summer threw her cell phone across the room in frustration. For the past half hour she had been frantically calling anyone in New York who Marissa would go see, anyone in Newport who she might have called and of course, any emo-geek named Seth Cohen. No one in New York knew where she was. Marissa had yet to call anyone in Newport. And Seth? Seth was missing. His cell phone was off, no one was home and his father didn't even know where he was.  
  
It had been two hours since she returned to the hotel room, only to find Marissa gone. The last time Summer entered a hotel (actually, motel) room to find Marissa gone, the taller blonde ended up almost dead in a dirty alley. But at least now it was morning and Marissa didn't have access to any dangerous pain medications.  
  
"Phew! This time Coop doesn't have killer drugs." Summer thought.  
  
Then she remembered the white powder she had seen on the sink. Her stomach began to dance and suddenly, she had the urge to throw up.  
  
XXX  
  
Sometime as they flew over the Midwest, Seth had decided to announce that he was only on the plane until it reached New York. Yet again, he explained to both Ryan and his mother that his heart belonged to Summer, that the sun rose and fell in her eyes only, that without her coffee sent him to sleep and Jay Leno wasn't funny- that until the moment he saw her again and they rekindled their relationship, he would be in agony.  
  
Kirsten wasn't quite sure what to make of Seth's announcement. She had always known of his fondness for Summer and ever since Passover, she had a new respect for the girl. Still, the notion of leaving her son alone in a city like New York was frightening for her. She slept what seemed like a total of three hours the whole time he was in Ecuador. When he returned, she promised herself she would never lose her son again. Not like that.  
  
It was Ryan who, despite having 98% of his thoughts focused on Theresa and her condition, managed to convince Kirsten that Seth would be just fine in New York. The mother still had her doubts, but obviously the two on one fight couldn't be won.  
  
They all sat silently on the plane for the rest of the flight.  
  
Once the plane touched the earth of New York, Seth was bouncing and smiling from ear to ear. He was finally going to see Summer. She would be his girlfriend again. Ryan was home. Life would be perfect.  
  
XXX  
  
"Okay now sweetie, do you know where to reach them? I just called the Hyatt and you're going to be staying there for the next night or so until I come back. Do you have everything? Are you hungry? You have your ATM card, right? How about a sweater? Did you bring one? It might get cold at night. Don't forget to call every-"  
  
"Mom. Chill." Seth cut off his mom's endless list of questions. She was obviously frightened and worried that her little boy was going to be in the Big City without her. He was obviously annoyed with her overprotective panic. Kirsten lifted a hand to pat Seth's hair, and grudgingly he allowed her to. At that particular instant he would have jumped through a flaming hoop so long as he would be able to stay in New York with Summer afterwards. She hugged him yet again, but this one would be the last. Kirsten and Ryan needed to get on the connecting flight to Atlanta. She breathed in her son's cologne and placed a delicate kiss on his cheek, but did not say anything else, so as not to embarrass him.  
  
Seth hugged his mom and assured her that he would be okay. Then he turned to Ryan.  
  
"Hey man, you can come with me if you want." Seth offered yet again. He secretly hoped that Ryan would agree and the two would have a guys trip. But it was easy to see in Ryan's eyes that he was still worried and frightened for Theresa, her safety and health. Ryan gave his brother his classic half-smile and shook his head.  
  
"I, uh, have to get to Atlanta. Maybe afterwards." Ryan gave Seth some hope of the guys' trip after all. Then, after and awkward handshake, Seth turned to leave the airport and Ryan turned to get on another plane.  
  
XXX  
  
Theresa lay still on her hospital bed. The doctor's told her that her condition was improving at a fast rate and soon she would be able to leave. They didn't tell her how lucky she was to be able to breathe and talk and walk normally after the vicious attack she suffered. No, the luck was something she figured out on her own. She knew what could happen if someone was angry enough, especially if that someone had a powerful kick of punch.  
  
When she turned 14, Theresa finally began to bloom. The last of her puppy fat melted off of her face, revealing her strong cheekbones and exposing her exotic eyes. She had been wearing a bra for a few years, but her breasts became noticeable once her waist tapered down and her legs lengthened. It was because of the changes at that time that guys began to notice her more and more.  
  
Of course, Ryan was the first to express that physically. But soon, Trey and Arturo's whole gang spent more time with her. Especially this one kid, Jameson. He was a basketball player with beautiful green eyes and coffee colored hair. He seemed nice enough, Theresa's mom even warmed up to him. But that one night changed everyone's perspective of him. That one night banished him from Chino forever.  
  
He came to Theresa's house on the pretense of hanging out with Arturo, although it was common knowledge that Arturo would be out that night. Theresa, reveling in the attention that he gave her, invited Jameson in to have a Coke and watch TV. In a matter of minutes, he was forcing his tongue into her mouth and sloppily attempting to remove her shirt. Screams attempted to flee her mouth, but he silenced her voice with his mouth. Fear started to mount in Theresa, his hands large, rough and strong, were roaming all over her body. The soft fabric of her shirt was torn as he attempted to see and feel her breasts. Once his mouth left hers, she screamed as loud as she could.  
  
And to her embarrassment it was Ryan who climbed skillfully into her window and pulled the bastard off her. As Theresa frantically sobbed, Ryan pinned Jameson to the floor. Sitting on the taller boy's abdomen, Ryan slammed his solid fist into Jameson's face over and over again. Finally getting to his feet, Ryan stood above the body of the boy. Ryan's fist was stained with blood, but he didn't notice. Standing over Jameson, Ryan shoved his foot into the boy's stomach. With all his abilities as a striker, he kicked Jameson until Theresa shielded the boy's body with her own.  
  
There was nothing but pure rage on Ryan's face. It was that emotion that took over the initial fear he felt upon hearing Theresa scream. He couldn't believe his eyes when he saw the tall friend of his brother's groping at his best friend. Shock was his initial reaction, but only for a split second before the animalistic rage took over. And it didn't stop. It wouldn't stop. He wanted that boy dead.  
  
Theresa shook her head, and just like an Etch-A-Sketch, the image faded from her mind. It was a reminder of what pain looked like, and she became more aware of what the scene was like when she lay on the floor helpless and afraid. Sitting in the hospital room, she was afraid. Afraid that this what her life was all about. Pain.  
  
Her thoughts were interrupted though by a soft knocking on her door.  
  
"Theresa?" the nurse's voice called out. "You have visitors."  
  
She opened her mouth to reply, but before she could another voice called to her.  
  
"Theresa? It's me." The doorknob twisted, the door creaked open slowly.  
  
It was Ryan. 


	6. 6

"What the hell are you doing here?"  
  
The first thing that popped into Ryan's head as he looked at Theresa's eyes, obviously annoyed, was a phrase her mother and brother often muttered in situations like this. Hell hath no fury like Theresa's wrath. It was something heard often enough in their house, Theresa though sweet and calm on the outside had a tendency to explode when things didn't go according to her plan. And unfortunately for everyone, her plans failed quite a lot.  
  
"Ryan, no one told you to come here. Get out of my room!"  
  
Ryan for the first time ever, agreed with Theresa's family's saying. Hell didn't scare him anymore. And without a word, he backed slowly out of the hospital room- in fear.  
  
XXX  
  
Seth fell silent as the big yellow taxi dragged slowly through the New York traffic. There was no air conditioning, all four windows of the vehicle were wide open, giving way to the thick air of the New York summer. Seth was surprised when he stepped through the airport doors, he always though of the East Coast and cooler, in the metereological sense of course. But the humidity of the afternoon grabbed hold of his senses, diving into his breath and seeping into his clothes. And as he sat in the cab feeling the summer and thinking of Summer, he suddenly really wanted to have sex.  
  
"Yo kid." The cabbie interrupted his thoughts before his mind turned any greener. "This is the Waldorf-Astoria. That'll be eighteen twenty six."  
  
Fumbling with his money, Seth managed to give the driver a twenty and with a wide smile told him to keep the change. The cab driver nodded in acknowledgement and sped off as soon as Seth hauled his duffel bag out of the taxi.  
  
He stood for a while. There. At Summer's hotel. Thinking.  
  
Then, he entered.  
  
XXX  
  
Theresa tugged at the hospital gown she currently wore. She was slightly embarrassed that Kirsten had to see her like this, with her face the same color as squash and eggplant salad. But Kirsten had been sitting in the backbreaking discomfort of the hospital chair by Theresa's bed for over an hour now, and as the two talked of women issues and love for a certain blue eyed boy, Kirsten seemed to forget, except for the ache in her back, that she was in a hospital.  
  
The two sat first in discomfort, staring at one another and searching for their voices. Until Theresa apologized of kicking Ryan out of the room, it wasn't that she was unhappy to seem him. She was unhappy to have him see her like this. He already saw her in a hospital gown, attached to machines and bags of fluid. He saw that all before and she still felt that shame.  
  
Kirsten, with a single question, opened a fountain of words and feelings within Theresa. It was the Ryan in her.  
  
It was the racing on their bikes.  
  
The losing their virginities.  
  
The saving her from Jameson.  
  
The keeping her out of trouble by lying for her and taking all the blame himself.  
  
The way he kept quiet.  
  
The way he talked to her.  
  
The way that late at night, when he was afraid of his drunken violent mother, he would climb into her window and the little boy inside him would whimper all his fears to her.  
  
The kiss that never ended.  
  
The promise that he would keep.  
  
It was everything inside her that didn't understand why Ryan would just up and leave and never call. Pain caused by over five months of not hearing a word from her best friend was still ripe and fresh inside her. She carried bruises on her face and a cast on her wrist, but it was her heart that was most covered in scars. How could anyone try to make sense of a disappearance? How could your other half- your other self not call, even once? Theresa wanted to ask that of Ryan. She wanted honest answers.  
  
Theresa could never be honest to Eddie, he would take everything personally. Theresa could always be honest to Ryan and he would take it all in. When they used to lie in bed together, just lying their avoiding girls and guys and parents and siblings, it was as if they were one. Her skin on his skin, limbs over limbs and muscles curving to accommodate each other. In those moments she didn't know where she ended, where he ended, if she ever really began. That was the feeling that stayed. The feeling that came back tap dancing on her skull every time she saw him.  
  
XXX  
  
Seth was whistling happily as he sat in the hotel lobby. Tapping his foot to the beats in his head, he embodied the classic emo-geek. He didn't care though, he was seeing the love of his life in a matter of seconds. With all the confidence he learned from Anna, he expertly asked the concierge to please ring up the room of Ms. Cooper and ask Ms. Roberts to meet him in the lobby. He strutted back to his table and sipped at his lemonade. The drink refreshed him somewhat, giving him at least a little comfort from the deep, protruding heat of the cab ride. But he knew it would be Summer that changed him. That made him feel like a million dollars plus change.  
  
His head snapped in the direction of the elevators every time he heard the little bell ding. But there was still no sign of Summer. The lemonade glass was soon empty, save for melting ice cubes and a disgruntled lemon wedge. The tapping of his foot became more urgent. Where could she be?  
  
Finally, a tap on his shoulder eased his fears of her disappearance. Summer. Finally.  
  
He turned and his face fell. There stood not his radiant, sexy, catty Summer but a mere shadow of that girl. Bags beneath her red and puffy eyes and hair in disarray, Summer's bottom lip shook like a leaf in the wind. Without words, a new practice of Seth Cohen, he wrapped his long lanky arms around her and enveloped her in a firm hug. Surprisingly, she clung onto him.  
  
"They found her. They found her and I don't know what to do." Summer cried into Seth's Hoobastank t-shirt. And although he had no clue what she was bawling over, he hugged her tight and didn't let go.  
  
XXX  
  
When Kirsten finally left Theresa's room on the pretense of getting a drink, she ran straight into Ryan, who was half asleep against the door.  
  
"Ryan Atwood!" she exclaimed, half in shock, half in anger. "Were you listening in?"  
  
A paleness blanketed Ryan's face, as his sad eyes looked up at her with nothing but innocence.  
  
"Kirsten, I just got here now. I promise."  
  
She smiled, knowing that he was telling the truth. But feeling the sad aura that surrounded him, she couldn't help but wonder where he had been for the past hour or so. As she thought, she continued her way down the hall to the vending machine, completely missing the part when Ryan slipped into Theresa's room yet again.  
  
XXX  
  
"Don't get mad," he said before anything else. The door was just beginning to shut behind his form and already Ryan wore his classic sad puppy look- the one that always got Theresa's mind to change. Well, it worked yet again and she didn't open her mouth as the annoyance fled from her eyes.  
  
"How'd you get here?" she asked quietly. Her face turned serious and solemn. Ryan was taken aback by her choice of question. She didn't ask his reason for being there, or what he intended to do there, or even how long he was staying. But his lips spread into a small smile as he realized he had the perfect answers.  
  
"Plane." The word almost caught in his throat. Somehow, Theresa just always had a way of making him forget what he wanted to say. Maybe it was her enthralling eyes. Maybe it was because Theresa wasn't just any girl.  
  
"Ryan? On a plane?" she asked skeptically.  
  
"Yeah. I didn't mind the height. Had a lot on my mind." He forced his eyes to the wall, fearing that if he looked at her again, all coherent thought would be lost. Fearing that if he saw her bruises he would not be able to keep himself from kissing them and promising to never let it happen again- the same way he did when her stepfather beat her.  
  
"What was on your mind that Ryan the Boy who Fell Out of a Tree Atwood didn't notice the heights?" She asked but she already knew the answer. It was simple.  
  
"You." 


	7. 7

**Author's Note:** _The Marissa scenes take place when Ryan, Seth and Kirsten were on the plane._ **Dark chapter. Drugs. Sex. You have been warned.**  
  
Marissa clambered around the hotel room over and over again. Wildly, she tossed all of her belongings onto the floor. Her hands groped the bottom of her suitcase. She flung her purse across the room. Tearing the bed sheets of the mattress, she turned the mattress over. When she still could not find what she was looking for, she checked the bathroom again. Opening every cabinet and even opening the tank of the toilet, she got angrier and more frustrated each time she saw an empty nook or cranny. She swore she had a few extra grams hidden somewhere.  
  
Fuck you Summer. You had no right to toss all that coke into the toilet. There's nothing now. I'm nothing now.  
  
Embarrassment flooded through Marissa. The heinous words she just thought towards Summer came from a dark place within her. Summer was her best friend. It wasn't like they were in fifth grade anymore and those words were used to define their status above the other girls, it was to the deepest extreme of what the two words meant. Best. Better than good, to the extreme of excellence. Friend. Someone you cared for deeply and who cared for you, always wanting the best for each other, of each other. Marissa was a failure.  
  
Failure. Couldn't keep Luke. Couldn't save her parents marriage. Couldn't help her father and his business. Couldn't see that Oliver was psycho. Couldn't make it work with Ryan. Couldn't be a good enough sister to Caitlyn.  
  
_Couldn't be a best friend._  
  
Summer wasn't her best friend anymore. Summer didn't want the best for her anymore. The best thing for Marissa was that heavenly white powder. Seeking its way up her nostril and into her system. The best thing for Marissa was the thick fiery taste of Vodka afterwards. The best thing for Marissa was to go find that guy again. The one that let her snort as much coke was she wanted as long as she did what he wanted. As long as she lifted up her skirt, lay down and stayed very, very quiet.  
  
She had to find him again. White powder. God's gift to boyfriend-less, best friend-less, divorced children. Marissa took off her tank top- still stained with the drinks she spilled on herself the night before. Pulling a halter top off the floor, she changed quickly, not bothering to look in the mirror anymore. The top was revealing enough, she could feel the fabric on her skin, she didn't need to see. She didn't want to see. The girl in the mirror had sunken cheeks, pale ghost like skin and a deep darkness in her eyes.  
  
That girl made part of Marissa sick.  
  
It made the other part cackle in a hollow imitation of a laugh.  
  
Ha. Ha. Ha.  
  
XXX  
  
Jacob had yet to go to sleep and it was almost six in the morning. He had been too busy making money to sleep. In his little hole of an apartment, the kitchen cabinets lacked any form of kitchenware. Within the hollow cabins lay plastic bins filled with little baggies. Everything from marijuana to ecstasy was there. Everything in between too. Jacob was a good dealer though, he didn't force anyone to buy. He never asked for new clients, he had enough. But the bartenders knew him well and they pushed for him. Vacationing teens, businessmen with cheating wives, wives with abusive husbands- everyone was recommended the same solution. Go see my man Jacob. He can give you something to make it all go away. Last night some bartender or the other from the Upper East Side sent him a pretty little thing. There was no way in hell that she was over twenty one, but he gave her some coke anyway. She paid him back though. Oh yes. That young supple body. So soft. So tight. If she hadn't said otherwise, he was sure he popped her cherry. Yes, that was beautiful. He gave her the coke for free because of that, though he knew she had more than enough to pay. The Victoria Secret panties on his floor said more than enough about where she came from. So did the Chanel bag she carried.  
  
Rich little tight bitch.  
  
He licked his lips. Couldn't wait to see that one again.  
  
As he thought of more things to do to her little body, there was a knocking on the door.  
  
"Jacob. I was here last night. Marissa. I need more-"Jacob opened the door. So maybe there was a God. Standing if front of his six foot frame was a skinny little rich girl. She looked good enough to eat. And she better believe that she wasn't in Kansas anymore.  
  
"Baby, come on in. Have a bit." He moved his arm in a mock grand gesture, letting her in. She didn't look as good as she did the last time she came. Her hair was all over the place, looking just as greasy as the hookers he dealt to. And her skin didn't have that youthful glow he enjoyed so much. In fact, she didn't look so good at all.  
  
"I need some more coke." She said urgently, taking a step forward and looking him straight in the eye. God this kid had balls. Metaphorically, only of course.  
  
"You're underage." He stated, without any emotion, even though he could feel the stirring in his groin. She didn't look as good as last time, but she was still the best looking girl to walk into his place. Not to mention that he could all but smell the wealth that radiated from her.  
  
"Please." She said, biting her lip. Moving her weight slightly forward, her chest just grazed his. Her eyes wide, they pleaded with him for just a few grams. A few grams to make the Princess of Newport feel like a queen.  
  
"Okay. But you're paying first." He whispered gruffly, leaning his head closer and closer to hers. She tilted her head ever so slightly backwards and in the brief moment that his lips were still feather-light on hers, she saw Ryan. His kisses so soft and gentle, warm and loving on her accepting lips. The moment was gone before it began as Jacob began to jab his tongue into her mouth. Ouch.  
  
His hands tore at the skirt she had on, it was the same one she wore earlier. This time though he didn't take the time to push it upwards to comfort her need to still be clothed. That time she thought she still had dignity. Now, she had nothing- meaning she had nothing to lose. She didn't care that the rough denim of her skirt was now bunched at her calves. She didn't care that his nails were sharp and his hands callused as they grabbed at soft flesh. She didn't care that he was inside her- in and out, rough and violent. _She didn't care. She didn't care. She didn't care.  
_  
One of his hands grabbed hold of her ass as the other tugged furiously at her long hair. His lips were still on her mouth, parted, tasting smoky and dirty. Finally, he let out a low moan and slammed himself into her one more time. She screamed- he took it for pleasure, she knew it was pain.  
  
When he let her put her clothes back on, he cut up some of her coveted powder with a credit card. Without a word he offered it to her, she snorted it- all of it- in less time than he had taken to set it up. She asked for more and he gave. It, too, was gone in the blink of an eye.  
  
She left.  
  
Pupils dilated.  
  
Feeling like she was on clouds.  
  
Or in sewers.  
  
Or caught up by a giant wave and dragged through the ocean back to Newport.  
  
Hazy.  
  
Cold. Cold. Sweat?  
  
New. York.  
  
Taxis. Traffic. Sunlight. Too bright. Burning into her eyes.  
  
Numb. Astonished.  
  
Laughing. Cold and hollow.  
  
Ryan. Summer. Holly. Luke. Dad. Mom. Caleb? Kirsten. Faces glistening on the ground.  
  
Faces coming closer. Closer. Darkness.  
  
Thud.  
  
XXX  
  
Seth held onto Summer tightly. He didn't let go until she nestled into the seat next to him. She cried and cried. Sometimes she mumbled, but mostly she just cried. Seth stroked her hair in an effort to hush her cries and it seemed to work. Until he realized that it only made her sob more quietly, knowing that he wanted her to stop.  
  
"Okay, Sum, you've got to stop for awhile and talk." He whispered. "I can't help if you don't stop."  
  
"Cohen, you're such an idiot!" she managed to say between sobs. Then in their classic Seth and Summer way of showing emotion, she nudged him roughly in the ribs.  
  
"I promise I'll help."  
  
Tears stained his shirt, but he didn't seem to notice anymore. In fact he wasn't feeling the sweat that had formed on his back from Summer's warm body being pressed on his. He didn't notice the police officers who entered the lobby.  
  
"Marissa..." It was the only word that escaped through Summer's throat before she began convulsing in sobs all over again. She, too, had been contemplating the meaning of a best friend. And she had failed Marissa. In the moments when her best friend needed her the most, needed someone to care for her, to make her feel loved- Summer had been pining away for the Cohen that sailed away. She knew Marissa was somewhere dangerous now. Somewhere getting a hold of more drugs. Somewhere possibly killing herself.  
  
And the only thing Summer could do was weep.  
  
"Marissa? Cooper?" Seth asked dully, knowing the answer but still searching for words to help out Summer. "Where is she?" He knew he wasn't being helpful, but he needed to get Summer to talk in order to make her stop crying.  
  
"In the hospital." The voice wasn't Summer's. The two teens turned to see who had supplied their answer. It was a police officer.  
  
XXX  
  
In a hospital in Atlanta, Kirsten was conversing with Theresa's doctors. They said that the bruising would soon disappear and she was very fortunate to not have any internal bleeding. They said that the cast was all that was needed to mend her wrist. They said simple physical therapy- perhaps only twice a week- would heal her knee completely. Kirsten swallowed the information like it was a glass of Cristal champagne. Comforting and delightful were the doctor's words.  
  
As she made her way back to Theresa's room, her purse began to vibrate and squeal. Opening it and digging out her cell phone, she quickly answered: "Kirsten Cohen."  
  
"Honey, are you okay? How's Theresa?" It was Sandy, who only hours ago had yelled at her for even suggesting the ludicrous idea of traveling cross- country to see a girl she barely knew. Now his voice was wrapped in butter and honey. Caring and sweet- the Sandy that Kirsten loved.  
  
"She's good. She looks awful but the doctor's say the bruising will go soon enough. Seth's still in New York, have you talked to him? How are you?" The ever forgiving wife, she decided not to bombard him with reasons why she was right to go.  
  
"Haven't talked to him. I've been in court all day- this case is insane. I just wanted to make sure you're alright." With a little thought, he added in a small voice "I miss you, honey."  
  
"I miss you too. I'll be home soon. Promise." She smiled into her phone.  
  
"Good. Okay, I've got to go. Bye." The line went dead. Kirsten still smiled at the blank door in front of her. Her relationship with Sandy was going to be just fine. And smiling even wider, she remembered the doctor's words. Feeling as though she had just found the silver lining to Theresa's dark, dull, gray cloud, she opened the door to Theresa's room.  
  
It was empty. 


	8. 8

**Author's Note:** _I apologize ahead of time because this chapter feels long. Also, the italic section is a dream- in case you can't tell. Unending thanks to those who have reviewed- you turn rainbows into Skittles! Please keep reading and reviewing :o)   
Oh yeah. I don't own_ The O.C.

Kirsten stood at the door of Theresa's room wondering where the two would have gone. But decided against her rational thought and left the room without any aims of searching for them or telling the doctors. They would come back. That she knew for sure.  
  
XXX  
  
After a short period of simply sitting and staring at each other, Ryan finally started talking. Theresa was sure that he mentioned something about killing the guy that did this to her and the time that one of his mom's boyfriends did the exact same thing to him. She felt bad that he, of all people, was making an effort to continue conversation and yet nothing he said really buried itself into her mind. She simply stared at him. The flat wall paper blue of his eyes, the soft pronounced movements of his mouth, the way his skin crinkled as he thought of something new to say. Maybe it was the painkillers, but Theresa found him even more sexy now than she did before.  
  
After Ryan's little monologue, Theresa smiled a smile of appreciation. But the silence in the room, the quiet monster that built, was driving both of them insane. Leaning her head back unto the pillow, she groaned out loud.  
  
"I need to get out of here!"  
  
Ryan gave her a sidelong look, a look that partially said that Theresa was crazy and partially said that they should definitely get out of there. Without talking to her, he walked slowly around the room, eyes flicking in all directions. She sat confused on the bed, wondering what he was looking for. Trying to see if the two of them would leave the hospital now- or maybe just the room.  
  
"Okay, hop in." Ryan announced as he produced a wheelchair by Theresa's bed.  
  
"I have two legs you know." She stuck her tongue out at him. And there was something about her just then. It might have been the classic Theresa sarcasm. Or the way she stuck her tongue out at him, like they were ten years old again. Or the way she stuck her tongue out so he could see her tongue and think about kissing her. Something about her that brought out a dancing tennis ball in Ryan's stomach. Butterflies? Yeah right. They were playing Wimbeldon in his abdomen.  
  
"You have a severely busted up knee."  
  
"Fine!" she almost yelled. She maneuvered herself slowly, using her one good arm to support her weight, until finally her legs dangled over the bed, facing the wheel chair in front of her. Inching her legs closer to the ground, she let out an unwelcome yelp as pain flooded her injured knee. In pure reflex, Ryan leaned in and caught her. His arms wrapped her body, now so much thinner- not just with the loss of the baby but with the depression she had been suffering from.  
  
"You okay?" he asked as he slowly lifted her and placed her into the wheel chair.  
  
"I hate feeling so fucking incompetent. I can't even stand." She spat out. He kept quiet for a few moments, then gave her a look as a grin fell upon his face.  
  
"You're hungry aren't you?" She was always bitchy when hungry. He wheeled her out of the room and down the hall in search of the cafeteria.  
  
XXX  
  
"What the hell do you mean she's in the hospital?" Summer jumped to her feet and stepped forward so she was mere inches away from the police officer. Seth silently prayed to Jesus/Moses that Summer would not completely fall into a rage black out. Especially not with a police officer as a target.  
  
"Excuse me, officer. We need to see her immediately. Which hospital? Where is it?" Seth bombarded the man with questions before Summer could snap. "And why is she there?"  
  
Summer turned to look at Cohen, he was calm and composed perfectly. His goofy vibe was completely on mute and he had this serious, concerned look. And she was immediately flooded with love for him. She truly loved him. He stood there, being one hundred percent man, getting answers saved only for family from the police officer. And he was doing not out of his genuine concern for Marissa, he never really liked that neighbor, Summer knew this for a fact. But Seth was doing all that for Summer. Because he knew how much her best friend meant to her. Because he was caring. Because he was her boyfriend.  
  
Before Summer could continue to ponder the makings of her relationship with Summer, she heard the police officer say two heart crushing words. Drug. Overdose.  
  
XXX  
  
_Marissa was dancing on the beach, the sand tickling her ankles as she twirled in a man's strong arms. The music was light and fast. Her giggles contributed to the sound that filled the darkness of the night. In the distance she could see lit Tikki torches. She thrived in every joyous moment dancing.  
  
But she looked up and saw her dancing partner, her father. He swayed her back and forth and suddenly, she was six years old again. He spun her around and she turned to face a different man. Luke. His classic blonde hair falling into his bright blue eyes. She closed her eyes as he gently kissed her on the cheek. She regained her vision quickly, but realized that it wasn't Luke with her. Now it was Ryan. Marissa felt so confused. And yet she enjoyed being held by Ryan, they were dancing at cotillion again. They were dancing and she was smiling.  
  
Suddenly, it all began to fade away. She was alone, the sand beneath her began to warm quickly. Falling to her knees, she felt as though she had been burned. Her mouth opened into a wide oval. Her screams never left her throat._  
  
That was the exact location of her mind. Her body, however, was in an emergency room.  
  
XXX  
  
Theresa scooped Jell-O from the cup in front of her and held it high over her head. She could hear Ryan's lips make contact with the plastic spoon and tugged at it while it was still in his mouth. That was a big mistake. From above her a generous block of Cherry Jell-O was falling quickly. Before the words "Oh shit" passed through Ryan's mind, watching the Jell-O, it landed at the nape of Theresa's neck, luckily not falling into her hair, which was currently held up in a messy bun. A shriek resembling "eek" filled the empty hallway and Ryan covered his hears.  
  
Cold and slimy was the Jell-O on her back, she leaned forward in hopes that it would stop sliding downwards. It did, just at the small of her back, one of the most sensitive parts of her body. Ryan was chuckling softly at the sight. As if Theresa in a hospital gown wasn't funny enough. Theresa in a hospital gown with a trail of bright red Jell-O down her back. Hilarious.  
  
"Ryan! Quit it!" she demanded. "Help me out." And though she had made the request, shock still flooded her a warm hand was placed on her bare back. Rough tissue paper traveled up and down her spine until finally she felt neither the coolness nor the sliminess of the Jell-O at all. It was replaced by the warmth and gentleness of his hands, rubbing her back.  
  
"Ryan." Her voice was a warning to snap back into the real world. He jerked his hands off of her immediately. They found their way back to the handles of the wheelchair and the two continued their trek down the barren hospital hall.  
  
"So, uh, you're not still going to stay here after this?" he asked awkwardly. Unconsciously, he stopped walking when the words left his lips. She looked over her shoulder at him, the gaze from her dark eyes burning into his corneas. He could see the uncertainty, it was well hidden beneath the how annoyed she was for his asking.  
  
"I don't know." She said quietly. Her eyes told him that she was honest.  
  
"I could always kidnap you, you know." He said laughing, preventing the hall to be filled with a tension filled silence again. He spun her wheelchair quickly and she squealed in delight. Her eyes couldn't fixate on anything as the hall faded with her spinning. All she could hear was that he was laughing with her. It felt so good. It felt so right.  
  
When he finally stopped spinning her, she lay back in the chair, stairing at the whiteness of the ceiling. White meant purity. It meant something completely different from the purples, greens and yellows of the bruises on her body. Her eyes caught on to black lettering. She gasped. Tears formed behind her eyes. Nursery.  
  
"Ryan...." She choked on her own words. He said nothing but lifted her gently up, cradling her fragile body in between the hardened muscles of his arms. She peered through the vast window, and stared at the dozen babies laying peacefully in their basinets. Each was beautiful. Wrapped in either a blue or pink blanket, she counted four girls and eight boys. Ryan began to move, he was sitting himself into the wheelchair. Sitting on his lap, she could still see the babies in the back two rows.  
  
"They're so beautiful." She whispered.  
  
"Ours would have been more..." Ryan trailed off, feeling the wave of sadness overcome him. He sighed, closed his eyes and buried his face in her shoulder. Ours. Our baby.  
  
Everything felt so gray now.


	9. 9

**Author's Note:** _Guess what I was eating while writing the last chapter? grins Ah, I didn't even want to write another chapter, I'm so lazy. But also so bored. Here's another thousand words for y'all to review. Thanks! :o)_   
_Still don't own_ The O.C._ (watch out though, Josh!)  
_  
XXX  
  
It wasn't that Summer couldn't stop crying, it was that every time she came close to calming down she would look up and see Seth, who looked panicked and afraid, and Marissa, unconscious and hooked up to too many machines. And seeing their faces, maybe not even seeing their faces, just knowing that they were there and that the world she had tried so hard to create as "normal" was burning before her eyes. She was wrapped in the arms of someone who wasn't even her boyfriend anymore. She stared at the lifeless body of her best friend. She breathed in the hospital scent- the one that used to comfort her unlike any other, the one that now resembled gasoline and dead fish. It was as everything was it's opposite. Seth wanting her and not having her. Marissa being the life of every party. Comfort filling her as she smelled the hospital. It was all the opposite now. It was as if her white world crossed over to the dark side- a sickening gray area that tore her existence into pieces.  
  
It was the same way she felt when Luke was fucking Julie Cooper. Damn it! Julie Cooper, where are you now? Now that you're daughter is dying? On one hand, Summer realized that by calling Julie as well as Jimmy, that she risked having her best friend sent to an institution. The facts stacked against her, Summer still believed Marissa was okay. The other hand told Summer that Julie Cooper- excuse her, Nichol- needed to know that her eldest daughter overdosed on coke. While on a vacation to New York. A vacation Julie invited her to. A vacation that Julie ran away from on the first concorde to Paris.  
  
Summer finally got up her courage and pulled herself off of Seth. Her vision was still a little blurry but the convulsing sobs had stopped. They stopped and Summer was breathing again. She was unsure of herself now- no longer the arrogant, brilliant, beautiful Summer Roberts. Now, she was just Summer. The girl whose eyes hurt from crying, whose best friend lay in a hospital bed again, who felt sick to her stomach wishing that they could just rewind 12 months. She stood up too quickly and blackness dotted her sight. Who cared? It was just Marissa and twenty zillion IVs.  
  
But it was still Marissa. And that was the catch to everything right now. To why she was in the hospital. To why she was in New York. God, Marissa, isn't it enough that the world revolved around you for sixteen years? A dark bitter taste formed in Summer's mouth, but she swallowed it quickly. Marissa might have been the center of Newport's world for many years, but she was also Summer's true blue, LYLAS saying, to the moon and back best friend. If Anna had been the Rose to Summer's Blanche, then Marissa was definitely the Elizabeth to her Jessica. Sigh, the days when they discussed the latest Sweet Valley books. When did they end?  
  
Placing a hand on Marissa's face, Summer was astonished at how cold her friend's skin was. It was also pale and at the moment semi-translucent. If you tried hard enough, you could really see the blood flowing through her arteries and veins. Her father once told her that the patients that recovered the fastest were the once that were most loved. It was a glitch of science and the perfection of human nature. So that's what Summer was doing. Transmitting all the love that had built up for over a decade of friendship- Little Mermaid blankets, Rainbow Brite lunchboxes, shoes that lit up when you walked, knee-socks and Clueless, lip syncing to Nsync, buying bras, getting their periods- everything two girls could go through together. You're my true blue, Sum. Love you like a sister, Coop. Love you to the moon and back. And back again.  
  
"Coop." She whispered urgently.  
  
But Marissa didn't hear.  
  
XXX  
  
Kirsten was beginning to worry about Ryan and Theresa, but she didn't dare go look for them. They deserved their time together and Kirsten was slightly relieved that Theresa wasn't fuming over the fact that Ryan came. Ah, young love. Kirsten could too vividly remember the romantic gestured exchanged by her and Sandy at the beginning of their relationship.  
  
But then again, Ryan and Theresa weren't at the beginning of their relationship either. When Kirsten first met Ryan, she was overly concerned about his status as a criminal. But when they first sat down to dinner together and she looked into his eyes, she saw someone older than herself. He moved in a soul that lived a thousand lives just like his. You could see pain endured and hope lost, in his eyes. And in Theresa's? You could see that now. Losing the baby took away every hope she ever had. And letting Ryan slip and fade and melt into something that wasn't hers. Even Kirsten's heart hurt, as the two looked at each other. In their gaze was longing, betrayal, hurt, fear, need and love. Love. Love. Kirsten loved her sons. She loved her husband. But the strength, determination and immortality of Ryan and Theresa's love? It was epic.  
  
The ringing chased away her thoughts, hurriedly, she answered, hoping it was Sandy. Just thinking about epic loves made her need to hear his voice.  
  
"Mom? Mom!" it was Seth. He was in a panic.  
  
"Seth, honey? What's wrong?"  
  
"Marissa's overdosed-"  
  
"Again?" It sounded rude, but sometimes words didn't necessarily get processed by the brain.  
  
"Yeah. We're in the emergency room with her." Seth hesitated. "Can you come?"  
  
"Yes." Once again with the lack of brain processing on words.  
  
"Thanks."  
  
XXX  
  
"Hey Ry.." Theresa said dazed to the wall. "Remember when I turned fifteen?" She was still on his lap in front of the nursery, but they had long stopped staring at the babies. First of all, it was much too hard for both of them and second, well they just liked being like that. Why was it that their most innocent moments of caring, happened when she sat on his lap?  
  
"Your quincañera? " he replied, referring to the large celebration her family had. In the Latin community, turning fifteen was the equivalent of an American's sweet sixteen, but even grander. Theresa's hadn't been the biggest or most expensive, but her backyard was filled with tea candles and Christmas lights and amazing food and of course, many dressed up people.  
  
"Remember what I said when you asked what I wished for?" she was still staring at the wall, but his hands had moved from her waist, where they held her steady, to her shoulders, which he drew lazy circles upon.  
  
He squinted for a moment, though she couldn't see, in thought. And in his mind, he was fifteen again, in Trey's dress pants and his nicest button down shirt, with a tie stolen from his mom's boyfriend. There was a paper plate of white cake with lavender frosting in his hands and an overwhelming sweetness in his throat. He stared at all the happy friends and families around, realizing that he hated parties. He tried to remember the last real party that was celebrated for him and a Rollodex of images flashed before his eyes.  
  
And then he saw her. Hair pulled up in a fancy twist, eyes darkened by eye liner and shadow, lips thick and pouty covered in expensive lipstick. Her mama had outdone herself with the dress though, it was hand beaded organza. A minuet of lavender, white and silver dancing on the delicate curves of Theresa's body and drowning in the length and fullness of her skirt. It was like Marissa at cotillion, except better. Theresa was real and earthy and home. And when she finally stole away from all her guests to spend a minute with Ryan, they shared a secret and a kiss.  
  
"That we'd both get out of Chino and live happily ever after." The words left Ryan's lips just as Theresa began to fear that he wouldn't remember their secret. On one of her most important days she wished not only for herself but for him. He owed her a lifetime of thanks because it had almost come true for him. And that's why he didn't hesitate to go back to Chino with her- she made it so he could get there, he owed her to come back.  
  
"It's coming true, right?" she asked, finally turning her head to his. He didn't notice the bruises anymore, he didn't notice the hospital or the wheelchair, the nursery or the sickeningly white hallway. He looked into her dark eyes and saw his own reflection. He didn't answer. He didn't need to.  
  
He leaned in and touched his lips to hers. Perhaps the gray was brightening, aspiring for silver and inching its way there. Closing her eyes, she kissed him back. And just as the silver was within reach a voice rang out from down the hall.  
  
"Ahem! Seth called from New York. Marissa just overdosed."  
  
Return of the gray. 


	10. 10

**Author's Note:**_ I know it took long to update, but hey, it was the weekend. I'll try to make the next update sooner, especially since this chapter's kind of short. Thanks for all the reviews- ha! I'm so amazed that my story makes people like Ryan/Theresa, yess!! Keep reviewing please!  
Oh and for Josh, I still don't own _The O.C.

Seth looks over to Summer who has now been wandering back and forth through the ICU since Marissa woke up. Well, that would be using the term "woke up" very loosely. Her eyes opened, revealing her pupils no longer dilated, and she moved slightly, as if snuggling into the hospital bed. But that was it. She didn't frown and say "Where am I?", she didn't scream calling out for more drugs, she hadn't wept and begged for her family, she hadn't even changed the direction of her gaze. She stared directly in front of her, and if not for the monitor that displaying the beatings of her heart and the constant rise and fall of her chest, Seth would say that she was dead.  
  
He didn't know if Marissa could tell if he was in the room or not, because she hadn't so much as turned her head in his direction. And though she never reacted to any of the sounds in the room- door opening, closing, chairs moving, people whispering, doctor talking- Seth kept very, very quiet. It was both awkward and unusual to him to be there so quiet. He detested silence, it was the sound that followed him through his youth as an only child. Making up for that fact, he talked the equivalent amount of a full family. Yet now, he was silent. Top lip pressing forcefully on his bottom lip in a fruitful attempt not to make a sound.  
  
The odd thing about the scene, a once beautiful Newport socialite lying in nothing but a hospital gown attached to two IVs and several monitors and a once social outcast Newport geek sitting by her bedside staring at her, was that Seth didn't even like Marissa.  
  
For sixteen years they had lived next door to each other and other than play dates set up by their parents, they made no contact. Seth was in love with her best friend, and trying to use his address to his advantage he made numerous pleas to Marissa in hopes that she would befriend him and introduce him to Summer. But she never did. She was too busy being the most popular girl in school, going to house parties, getting drunk, being Luke's girlfriend, rejecting the loser girls that sucked up to her, in other words being herself.  
  
And then there was Ryan. The first time in his life that Seth not only had a friend and a best friend, it was like magic. Seth didn't want to admit it but he had been waiting all his life for something like Ryan to happen. Someone who would appreciate his X-box and the multitude of games he had. Someone to tell when he read an exciting part of a comic book. Someone who could keep his secret about the name of his boat. Ryan was everything. In his own quiet, serious, experienced manner, he was the perfect Yin to Seth's babbling, goofy, innocent Yang.  
  
But then Ryan ended up with Marissa.  
  
He wasn't jealous of his brother's girlfriend. Yeah, right. He was not only jealous but annoyed and hurt. Then he was just plain pissed off when Ryan got in trouble for Marissa's mistake of liking Oliver. And then he was overwhelmed when Ryan left for Chino. And now he was annoyed at Marissa for being stupid enough to OD, for being a bad friend to Summer and for ruining his New York vacation.  
  
He didn't mean to think of every negative feeling he had towards her but after almost four hours of sitting in the hospital, holding Summer as she sobbed, calling Julie Cooper, Seth was too worn out to look for a silver lining.  
  
XXX  
  
Theresa shook her head. She was in jeans and a wife beater. The latter was Ryan's. After a long discussion with Kirsten, the doctor finally agreed that Theresa was well enough to leave the hospital. And though, Kirsten was elated with the thought of Theresa getting better, she worried for her safety with her cousin. But Eva had promised both Kirsten and Theresa that she had taken care of the problem with Damon and they now officially had a restraining order against him. And while Kirsten glared at Eva, Theresa didn't really care. At least she was getting out of the hospital.  
  
It was Kirsten that announced it, walking into Theresa room, just as Ryan was lifting her from the wheelchair to the bed. It was out of habit and not will that Ryan stepped out of the room when Kirsten asked Theresa if they could talk. It wasn't out of habit but out of his own will that Ryan leaned against the doorway, wanting to see Theresa as soon as the door opened. And it was out of too many years of watching Ryan walk out of her room, that Theresa knew that he would come back in as soon as the parent left. And of course, he did.  
  
He stood with his armed propped up on the doorframe, leaning into the room, watching her. And as the tradition went on, he didn't step a foot back into the room until she looked up, nodded and gave a little smile.  
  
Despite the army of nurses available, as well as Kirsten and Eva, it was Ryan who stayed nearby while Theresa changed back into civilian clothing. He brought the bag Eva had brought and handed her pieces of clothing one by one. And it was him she asked a shirt from when she realized that all the clothing Eva had brought would not accommodate the cast on her wrist. Taking the only wife beater out of the backpack he brought from Newport, he slid it over her head and laughed as he noticed how large it was for her.  
  
Now, he was pushing her wheelchair down the hall towards the exit of the hospital. And all she wanted to do was stand up and kiss him.

But she couldn't stand. So, she did the next best thing. Her head leaned over a shoulder, her arm snaked up and grabbed him by the collar, tugging him down gently until they were looking eye to eye. She didn't have to say anything and he wasn't confused, just mildly surprised and dare she say, happy? And right there, in front of Kirsten and Eva and nurses and doctors, their lips met and sunlight found its way into their hearts again.

But that isn't what happened. For Theresa was too scared to reach up to Ryan for a kiss like that. And Ryan was too damn respectful of her to kiss her unless he knew it was absolutely right. So he kept pushing her wheelchair and she kept listening to her heart break.


	11. 11

**Author's Note:**_ Told you I'd update soon. Come on guys, please review!   
Still don't own _The O.C.

Ryan didn't speak a single word to Kirsten on the flight to New York. In the back of his mind he wondered what it was like to have enough money to be on three flights in one day. He thought about whether or not they would go back to Newport later that night, after visiting Seth in New York. But that wasn't the main focus of his mind. His mind was blanketed in thoughts of a single person, a single woman. Theresa.  
  
Fuck, why did she keep doing this to him? Since the time he was twelve, she was so often the main image in his mind. Right now, he just kept thinking about that kiss in the hospital. Agh, Ryan Atwood, you're so fucking stupid! That was the perfect time, the perfect time to tell her that you love her. You should have told her that you still want to be with her. You've always wanted to be wit-  
  
"Ryan?" Kirsten's voice punctured his balloon of thought. "You might want to eat something." She indicated the airline snack of cookies, peanuts and milk in front of him. "Airplane food isn't that bad you know." Ryan looked at her for a moment, he saw her lips moving but apparently sound traveled very slowly today. Perhaps, it was because there was a not-so-quiet voice in the back of his mind screaming at him for not telling Theresa how he felt. Silencing that voice for a few fleeting moments, Ryan took Kirsten's advice and began to unwrap the airplane food. And suddenly, he realized that for the second time today, he was on an airplane. Looking up at the monitor ahead of him he noted the figure of their altitude. The blood began to circulate less and less to his skull, a snowy color overtook his face.  
  
He took a deep breath. And then another one. And then another one. Theresa, he thought. Theresa in her quincanera dress. Theresa when she spilled cake batter on herself in home ec. Theresa when she begged me to drive her to LaTandre Evans party. Theresa as Maria in West Side Story. Theresa singing. Theresa dancing. Theresa when she was dancing with me. Theresa when she kissed me. Theresa when we kiss.  
  
All his thoughts of the altitude, of the possible fall, of the nearing descent were drained from Ryan's thoughts. Forcing himself to take a bite from an airline cookie, he sighed. Theresa.  
  
XXX  
  
"I don't understand how you could leave her alone here." A male voice dominated the small hospital waiting area.  
  
"No one informed me of her problem." A female voice shot back.  
  
"She wasn't going to drug dealer's homes in Newport!" He moved his face to within inches of hers and the look that penetrated through her told her that she should shut her mouth now, before he declared every malevolent move she ever made in front of the whole hospital. But there was an itching in her throat that made Julie Cooper what to berate her ex-husband some more. She didn't want him to have the last word, that always reserved for her. Yet, she knew that Jimmy had it in him to bring out the whole Luke escapade in this argument. An inner battle waged beneath the red braid of the woman.  
  
"Jimmy, Julie..." For once in her life, Julie Cooper was thankful that Kirsten Cohen walked into a room. Actually, Julie knew that Kirsten had performed many kind deeds for her and Jimmy over the years, but she could not bring herself to admit that she was truly grateful to her ex-husband's ex-girlfriend. Although, now, Kirsten was her husband's daughter, but that fact both dismayed Julie and made her feel like some sort of old lady.  
  
"Kirsten," Julie greeted her with a smile, welcoming her into a warm hug. "Thanks for showing your support." Kirsten, a bit startled by the friendliness of the woman whom she shared an embrace with, looked over and smiled meaningfully at Jimmy. She wouldn't know what to do if her son was in their daughter's situation. It was obvious in Jimmy's face that he was distraught and confused. He didn't know what to do with Marissa anymore.  
  
"How are you two? How is Marissa?" Kirsten asked of the ill girl's parents. They looked at each other for a while and then Jimmy began to explain the cocaine overdose and how a kind citizen called the police when they found Marissa passed out on the pavement. They said it was very lucky that Marissa was taken to a hospital right away. When his voice began to trail, Julie picked up and slowly, with her face turning slightly green, said that the doctor's hypothesized that she was also raped.  
  
"Raped?!" Ryan exclaimed in disbelief. Neither Jimmy nor Julie had noticed him standing a few paced behind Kirsten in the waiting room. He had stood, silent as always, leaning against the wall. But he could not prevent the shock from leaving his throat. Marissa, who had seemed so pure and angelic, who despite months of dating did not sleep with him, was raped. Ryan felt a hollow pit in his stomach begin to grow. He wanted to vomit.  
  
Julie looked over to where he stood and nodded, not wanting to state the fact again. Her eyes were puffy from the tears she shed by her daughter's bedside. Marissa was still in the same state since she woke up. Eyes open, heart beating, lungs moving, but no sign of spirit. No sign of life. Kirsten, Jimmy and Julie discussed Marissa a bit more, but Ryan ran off.  
  
XXX  
  
Summer paced steadily by Marissa's bed, all the while talking. She and Seth were in the same conversation they had been having for almost an hour now. It was of course, about their relationship. She, again, whined off the bitter cruelty and thoughtlessness that Seth displayed when he disappeared on his boat. It was about the fourth time that he heard her tell this anecdote and as much as he loved her and wanted to be with her, the words "selfish" and "hurtful" could only be used so many times in a single hour. Finally, as Summer's pacing headed in his direction, he grabbed her and fiercely placed his mouth on hers.  
  
"Finally, Cohen!" she said, when he finished kissing her. He smiled and she kissed him back, lightly this time. It was sweet. He leaned his head in again, hoping to receive yet another but she turned away and indicated to the bed, where Marissa still lay motionless.  
  
"Uh, am I interrupting something?" a male voice called from the doorway. Seth broke out into a smile as he looked back to see Ryan. The two greeted each other with an awkward "manly" hug. Summer, surprisingly, wrapped her arms around Ryan's neck and held him tightly for a few moments.  
  
"She hasn't moved since this morning." Seth updated his brother on Marissa's status. "She had about eleven grams of cocaine in the past twenty- four hours. Not to mention alcohol. Oh yeah, Julie and Jimmy think she was raped."  
  
Before Ryan could jump in, Summer added, "She wasn't. She slept with the dealer." She looked over to Ryan, expecting to see some sort of relief on his face. Being angry and hateful towards a rapist was one thing, but pitying Marissa for being stupid enough to sleep with a dealer was less harmful. But he didn't look angry, hateful or even compassionate. His tanned face was filled with surprise.  
  
And so was Summer's as she heard the voices of Julie, Jimmy and Kirsten at the door.  
  
"That's it," Julie's frustrated voice rang loud and clear in the small room. "She's going to Evanston tomorrow."  
  
Shock filtered through everyone's face as Jimmy nodded in agreement. Marissa was going to rehab.


	12. 12

Getting off yet another plane, Ryan sighed. There had been too many hours spent in the sky in the past twenty four hours, too many hours in a hospital, too many people looking depressed, too many thoughts that took him right back to his thirteen year old self. He broke his arm all those years ago and the drugs they had him on and the "concerned" friends in the waiting room and Theresa looking at him like he was going to die. That's what the past twenty four hours felt like. It was lying on a bed, seeing through a foggy glass of drugs and not being able to reach out and grab what he really wanted.  
  
It was dark now. Newport sky was filled with bitter blackness and the air smelled crisp and solid. He knew that Sandy and Kirsten were talking in the front of the car, that in her hushed voice, Kirsten told her husband of the crazy everything. Ryan's ears perked each time his name rolled of her tongue, an awakened sense. But Ryan refused to pay attention to Theresa's name anymore.  
  
There had been too much.  
  
Seth, who chose to drive with Summer, was probably already asleep. The speed at which Summer chose to drive brought you in and out of Newport in less time than it took her to get ready. Ryan thought of those two, how cute they had been together both in the hospital and on the plane ride home. Ryan Atwood wasn't the guy who said cute, but he agreed with a flight attendant who had commented on the couple. He was happy they were happy. Well, he was happy for Seth. Summer was still a bit of a mystery to him, and he would eventually figure her out, but he was too tired at the moment.  
  
Ryan just wanted to sleep, to close his eyes and embrace the dark emptiness. But though his eyelids shielded him from sight or light, there were pictures playing over in his mind. He forced visions of Theresa away, they were exhausted halfway back to Newport. He refused to think of Marissa, staring blankly at a wall almost soulless. He couldn't think of Seth and Summer, there was a revolting tinge of jealousy in his stomach as they saw that happy couple. So he decided not to think at all.  
  
And soon enough, they were home. Body moving mechanically, he trudged into the pool house and took of his shoes. He undressed quickly, racing towards slumber. Jacket hit the floor, his shirt, his jeans, his socks. In nothing but boxers, he collapsed on top of his fresh sheets and slept. He ignored the open window, the chilling breeze, the sweat sticking the sheets to his body. He ignored all of it and slept. There, he thought he would chase peace. Now he was chasing her. Again.  
  
XXX  
  
She was curled into the fetus position. Balled up so tight that no one even noticed her convulse as she sobbed. She was sober now. No drugs in her system- the kind she loved and the kind the doctor's gave her. It was the first time in the past week or so that she was completely and entirely sober.  
  
And it felt like crap. There had been so many years of happy memories, but now all she could see were the recent bad events. Her father getting into a fist fight at cotillion. Luke groping at another girl. Her mother attempting to send her to an institution (second time's a charm). Caleb Nichol dating her mother. Ryan fighting with Oliver. Ryan with Theresa. Luke with Julie. Marissa Cooper had lived her whole life in an attempt to be happy, but now, it was all completely worthless.  
  
It was as if a year or so ago, a paper cut, thin and meaningless, had afflicted her heart. And since that moment thin trails of her ability to love and believe dripped away, leaving her raw and vulnerable. She couldn't take it anymore. That's why she was here. That's why she was here. That's why she was sorry.  
  
She was sorry for being alive. For having continued living after everything that happened. Life, who needed it? No one knew what it was like to be her. Nobody in this whole world would ever truly understand the pain associated with her suffering. There were people who were poor. There were people who were rich. There were people who loved. There were people whose love was unrequited. But there weren't any people like her.  
  
She had had everything. Everything people dreamed of, family, wealth, a home, a sister who adored her, popularity, friends, a boyfriend. And she lost it. All of it. People lose things everyday, but not like that. Nothing close to all of that. Nothing that would give anyone else even the slightest glimpse into her pain.  
  
Large wet tears fell from her eyes, but they were open, embracing her surroundings. This was Evanston. This was a rehabilitation center. This was where they would tell her to get better. This was where she belonged.  
  
XXX  
  
"Hey mamacita, I made you a special breakfast for your first morning back in Casa Eva."  
  
Theresa blinked a few times, shaking off her dream of Chino's summer heat and Ryan's heated hands. She stared blankly at Eva for a few moments and inhaled the thick scent of chocolate and bacon.  
  
"Okay, sleepy head, you can eat when you want to but I've got to work." Noticing the concerned look on Theresa's face, she added, "I've got new locks and you are under strict instruction not to open the door for anyone. Miss Gillian next door is looking out for you too."  
  
Theresa breathed a sigh of relief. Kicking the thin sheet of her legs, she swung them over the side of the bed and pulled herself up. She was vertical for almost a minute before her knee gave way and she was on the bed again. Eva unfolded the wheelchair in front of her and aided the injured girl into it. Wheeling herself to the kitchen, she saw a short stack of chocolate- chip pancakes, fluffy scrambled eggs and crispy bacon all on the table. "Thanks, Ev." She smiled. "Go to work." Taking her cousin's advice, Eva left the apartment carefully locking all the locks from the outside. Sitting in her wheelchair, staring at a mountain of food, Theresa smiled to herself.  
  
Could things be working out? 


	13. 13

Ryan woke with beams of light shining through his open window and unto his face. Scrambling out of bed, he slipped a white t-shirt on and headed into the main house. To his surprise it was empty, save for Rosa who was doing the breakfast dishes. She turned to him as he entered, but quickly turned back to the stream of water clashing on her hands.  
  
"Uh, Rosa?" his voice was rough and thick in his newly awakened state. "Where's everyone?" He stood barely absorbing the information that the kind housekeeper fed to him. Sandy was still working on his case. Kirsten had developments to take care of at the Newport Group. And Seth? He came home minutes before dawn and was still fast asleep in his room. Ryan gave a small smile, listening to the last part.  
  
Collapsing into a kitchen chair, he reached over and grabbed the box of Captain Crunch. Not bothering to look for a bowl, he stuck his hand into the box and shoved a fistful of dry cereal into his mouth. Rosa gave him a strange look, but he was oblivious to everything but his cereal and his thoughts.  
  
That was until Kirsten came rushing into the kitchen. "Rosa, Ryan," she greeted the two. "I'm looking for the blue prints I left here. I'm due at the construction site in twenty minutes. We're underhanded. My father is still with Julie in God knows where Rehab. The construction guy is a jerk. My office lost their copy of the blueprints. My secretary called in sick for the fourth time this month..." She spoke a mile a minute to no one in particular as she busied herself opening all sorts of cabinets and files in the kitchen. Rosa ignored her after the initial greeting, continuing with her washing. Ryan though less oblivious of his surroundings, simply chewed and swallowed even more cereal.  
  
"Hey Kirsten," Ryan said nonchalantly. "If you need help, you know. I've got nothing to do this summer." Kirsten, for the first time since she entered the kitchen, stopped and looked into Ryan's dark blue eyes. At that moment, with his hair in a mess and his hand in the cereal box, he looked so boyish. She smiled. That was her son.  
  
"Sure, Ryan. Get dressed, I'll explain stuff on the ride to the site."  
  
XXX  
  
One ring. Two rings. Slam.  
  
What's wrong with you? Theresa asked herself for the thousandth time. It was exactly three weeks since Ryan left Atlanta. It had been days seen he last called her. It had been almost an hour since she first picked up the phone to call Ryan but she hadn't been able to summon enough courage to follow through with the call. Usually she lasted three rings, before forcefully banging the phone unto the receiver. Now, she was down to two. Desperate to talk to Ryan, to tell him that she could walk again, to tell him that she was coming to California.  
  
"Mamacita, let me call the boy." Eva called over her shoulder, as she listened to her younger cousin slam the phone down yet again. "You're going to kill my phone." Eva had spent the past three weeks filled with bitter guilt over what happened between Theresa and Damon. She had taken it upon herself to change her work schedule to be able to spend physical therapy sessions with Theresa both at the hospital and in their apartment. Even though Eva began working night shifts, she was happier than ever. For once, since she moved into her own place, she felt needed.  
  
Theresa was on the warpath every session of physical therapy. Convinced that her trainer was not giving his full effort to regain her ability to walk, she created exercises which she did late at night. It because of her own methods that helped her heal so quickly. And now, she could walk. There was an obvious imbalance in her stride, but at least she wasn't confined to the invalid status of a wheelchair anymore. To that, she rejoiced.  
  
She picked up the phone again. One ring. Two ring. Thre-  
  
"Don't you dare slam my phone down again!"  
  
Four rings. Five rings. Si-  
  
"Hello, Cohen residence." The voice was bright, cheerful and female.  
  
"Mrs. Cohen?" Theresa asked, unsure of herself.  
  
"Theresa," though Theresa could never be sure, the tone of Kirsten's voice was a definite indication of a smile.  
  
"Is, uh, is Ryan there?"  
  
"Oh," there was a hesitation in her voice. "He might be asleep already, it was a long day at work."  
  
Theresa's face fell. "Well, thanks then-"  
  
"You know what, honey? I bet you he's still up. I'll go check the pool house and have him call you right back, alright?" God, everyone deserves a mom like Kirsten Cohen.  
  
"Thanks so much."  
  
XXX  
  
Seth, who had been permanently attached to Summer by the hand, hip and mouth, had finally found time to spend with his brother. He sat on Ryan's bed, while Ryan was sprawled across the pool house floor, slowly dying of the agony of Seth's blabber. He loved Seth, more than his own brother, perhaps. But if Seth told him the exact same story of giving Summer roses at the beach one more time. One. More. Time. Ryan was afraid he would snap.  
  
Oblivious to Ryan's feelings, Seth grinned like a Cheshire cat. He was in love, more truly and deeply than ever before. The past few weeks were the honeymoon stage of his relationship with Summer. The whole episode in New York proved to the both of them that they needed each other. Despite the countless kisses and caresses the two shared, it was the feeling of Summer's arms wrapped around him, needing him, that Seth would never forget.  
  
Seth smile grew even wider. "I don't know, man. Before it was cute how we argued and stuff. But now, it feels so different. We still argue but we're so much more relaxed. She's my soul mate, Ryan. She is. And I didn't really believe in soul mates... Do you?" The question hung in the air, the same way the smell of Summer's jasmine perfume hung on Seth. He paused for a moment, and continued on with another profession of his love for Summer. Ryan had to admit, they were perfect together. They had history, they had love, they both wanted and needed each other. Ryan could have had that.  
  
He thought of soul mates and mates and relationships in general with every new word that left Seth's mouth. All the romance and affection and love Seth spoke of was like a symphony of feelings and gestures brought together in perfect harmony. Ryan enjoyed Seth's company and the fact that Seth shared all the details with him. It proved that Seth really trusted Ryan. But beneath all of that, Ryan was hurt more than anything. Because he wanted all of that and he knew she wanted all of that. It wasn't their fault that they were all those thousands of miles away.  
  
Just as Seth was about to launch into a different story, Kirsten walked into the pool house. "Honey, why don't you call Theresa?" 


	14. 14

**Author's Note: **_Sorry for posting chapter 13 twice. I didn't mean to. This will be a very dialogue filled chapter. Oh, and sex. Not much, but it's mentioned. Still don't own.. I wish I did. I'll try to update again soon.  
_  
XXX  
  
Theresa checked her clock again, it had been exactly seventeen minutes since she had hung up the phone with Kirsten. And considering that California was two time zones away, Theresa would be lucky to stay awake for another hour or so. Given Ryan's history of speech, that was probably more than enough time than they needed. But she still needed him to call. Kirsten said he would. Kirsten wouldn't lie because... Because she was Kirsten Cohen surrogate mother to an estranged blonde that just so happened to own Theresa's heart.  
  
Then the phone rang. So God does love me. Theresa smiled, and listened to another moment of glorious ringing before limping over to the kitchen and picking up the phone. "Hello?" she spoke into the receiver as she propped herself up on the countertop.  
  
"Hey Theresa," the voice was warm and deep. "It's Ryan." As if he even needed to tell her.  
  
"Hey Ryan," a continent between them, he could see her smile as she spoke. "How've you been?"  
  
"Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?" Apparently being back in Newport revived Ryan's hidden sarcasm.  
  
"I'm fine." The words escaped almost too quickly. "Really, I can walk now."  
  
"Yeah? That's good." She couldn't tell if there was genuine happiness in his voice or he just wanted to continue the conversation.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Quiet. It made Theresa's hands fiddle with the telephone cord, her hands slid around the counter searching for something- anything. They found a bag of Chips Ahoy and she began munching.  
  
On the other end of the line, Ryan looked for words. But there really weren't any, and that's what made it all the more difficult to lay there in his pool house with a phone to his ear. He wanted to tell her to come to Newport because he missed her and he needed to see her. It just didn't seem right though. And with Ryan, everything needed to be right.  
  
"What are you eating?' he asked finally, noticed the familiar sound of her chewing.  
  
"Cookies," she said finally, after swallowing.  
  
Laughter came from Ryan's end of the line. "Cookie monster returns."  
  
"Shut up!" she was defensive. "I'm not eleven anymore."  
  
"Eleven? You had cookie cravings last month."  
  
"I was pregnant, Atwood. It wasn't my fault."  
  
It was interesting how over the past few weeks, the pregnancy and miscarriage became a fact of life. It was never discussed in detail and feelings- the pain and suffering- never completely resurfaced. Instead, it was replaced with an odd nostalgic feeling that reminded both Ryan and Theresa of what it was like to be together.  
  
"Oh yeah?" She would have bet all her money that as he asked that, an eyebrow was raised mockingly.  
  
"It's not like I made that baby all by myself." Flashes of memories filled her mind. The candles flickered by the window, illuminating Ryan from behind, a psuedo-halo above his blonde head. The taste of his lips on hers, his tongue on hers, the taste of his sweat and skin. His hands on her, just on her, on her everything. Seeing his head leaned back against the pillow, watching her ride him. The look of contentment, of excitement in his face. Lingering scents of her vanilla perfume, his salty sweat and the tight smell of sex filled her as she sat silent, listening for his voice.  
  
Ryan stayed silent for a moment.

She could sense the discomfort.

Theresa was probably the one person in the world who could always figure out what Ryan felt. His face stayed stone and his voice unheard, but she could tell the difference between upset, pissed off, unhappy, sad and the thousands of other gray moods of Ryan Atwood.  
  
"Besides, since when don't you carry a condom?" She giggled after asking. That night, as his lips nipped at her collarbone and his hands expertly unhooked her bra, she stuck a hand into his back pocket before pushing his jeans to the floor. It was to her surprise that it was empty. Their misadventures in the backseat of Arturo's car and various other risqué spots taught her that it was habitual for Ryan to have a contraceptive with him. It was always there, no matter how unexpected the rendezvous. Always in his back pocket.  
  
"Since I stopped carrying around cigarettes." Ryan didn't want to verbalize the obvious sentiment. He stopped carrying condoms around when he got to Newport. There was no exact date in his memory, but around the time he figured that things with Marissa would not become intimate, he put what was left of his pack of Trojans in the back of his closet, right next to his lighter.  
  
"What happened to 'always be prepared'?" she teased, referring to his brief fascination with boy scouts.  
  
"Hey, I never joined those uniform wearing losers okay?"  
  
"Touchy, touchy." He smiled as she continued to tease, he missed this. "But you did join those costume wearing, singing and dancing losers, right?" she said, referring to his many years in musicals and plays.  
  
"That's 'cause I was damn good." Same old cocky bastard. "You would have never lasted if it wasn't for me."  
  
"Yeah, I wouldn't have."  
  
It was one of their favorite jokes, how the two of them resented the rest of the drama group and stuck by each other. They were the fearless two, and without the other they would have never endured the Junior High teasing of bullies who though musicals were for losers. Theresa never failed to thank him for protecting her from those bullies, always claiming she could have never lasted without him. However, Ryan, the cocky bastard, took it as a testament to his talent. That it was his coaching that made Theresa a star.  
  
"How else would you have gotten such great roles?" Same old same old cocky Ryan.  
  
"Yeah, 'cause you were so great that you were Jet number four in seventh grade." Sarcasm oozed through her words. "Oh gee, tell me again, who was Maria in West Side Story?"  
  
"Uh, the lead female role." Sarcasm, huh. Two could play at that game. "You know, Hispanic, in love with the wrong guy, that blonde dude, always getting into fights."  
  
It was sarcastic and they laughed, but there was something about his last sentence that took the conversation away from musicals and back to real life.  
  
_In love with the wrong guy, that blonde dude, always getting into fights._  
  
She had searched for years for a way to describe what her heart wanted and he, of all people, he had said it.  
  
"I miss you," his voice was softer, gentle. A heated glow resonated inside Theresa's heart as she heard those words. The same heat turned Ryan's tan face into an unwilling pink.  
  
"I miss you too." She decided it was time to apologize. "I'm sorry I didn't call sooner. I don't know why I didn't."  
  
"Me too. It wasn't 'cause..." he hesitated. Did he really want to let her know?  
  
""Cause what?" intrigued, she begged him to continue.  
  
"It wasn't cause I wasn't thinking about you." That's what he had been longing to tell her. "I think about you all the time. I space out at work, I never focus on the TV, even if I'm talking to someone else." An enormous weight lifted off of Ryan's shoulders. Bottled inside him for three whole weeks were feelings about Theresa, the constant picture of her face in his mind and the unending question of why can't I tell her. It was gone now. She knew. She knew he was crazy about her.  
  
"God, I wish you were here. Or I was there." He continued. "I'm sorry if I'm being emotional or sentimental or-"  
  
"Ryan. Wait." She didn't want to hear what he had to say. Not right now, not over the phone. Phones, so impersonal. The sound of someone's voice in words thought up in places far away. She needed more than his words right now. She wanted his arms cradling her, his lips to smile halfway, his eyes to dance as blue as the July sky.  
  
"What?" Immediately, he regretted his decision to tell her everything.  
  
"Tell me tomorrow." Confusion fell upon his blue eyes and wrinkled his tan brow.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because." It would probably hurt her more to keep the secret than for him to wonder why. But she really wanted to surprise him. She had already talked to Kirsten and discussed her plans. Kirsten had promised to not tell Ryan or anyone else for that matter. They both wanted to see the surprised smile on his face.  
  
"Uh, okay." Ryan felt wounded.  
  
"Okay." Theresa smiled even wider. "I'll see you tomorrow."


	15. 15

**Author's Note: **_Sorry it took so long to update. Thanks everyone for the great reviews. Please review this one too! Watch out for the next chapter, it's a big one.   
Oh, and make sure to read the last part of this one carefully. _

"So you decided to come back?"  
  
"Yeah. I've taken advantage of Eva enough. Mama says I'm still enrolled for senior year and 'Turo gets out on probation next week. They need me there and besides, I've been nothing but trouble since I left."  
  
"I see."  
  
"Sorry about this, I've taken advantage of you enough."  
  
Theresa sat in the front seat of Sandy Cohen's BMW, as Kirsten drove down the freeway. The sun was still crashing into the windows with strength, but they knew that dusk was quickly approaching. Kirsten was full of smiles as she met Theresa at the airport, knowing that at least she was closer and easier to keep an eye on now. Theresa, however, was filled with a slight embarassment as she looked at Kirsten. The older woman had done so much for her already. The ticket that Theresa had used was a gift that Kirsten gave that last day at the hospital in Atlanta. It was Kirsten who picked her up. It was Kirsten who kept her homecoming a secret from Ryan.  
  
"Does he know you're coming?" Her hands on the steering wheel, her eyes on the road, Kirsten focused her ears on listening to Theresa.  
  
"No. I sort of gave him a hint, but I don't think he got it." She giggled after the last statement. Kirsten smiled too. It was an odd moment for her, she felt a sort of sisterly love towards Theresa. It wasn't even the same feeling she got when laughing with Hailey. She always felt more like Hailey's parent than her sister. Now, she was supposed to be feeling as though she was Theresa's parent but instead felt like her sister. Kirsten was never sure what to make of her relationship with Theresa, but she was always glad for it.  
  
"So, it's definitely a surprise."  
  
"Yeah, I hope he doesn't mind though." She said that instead of saying what she really hoped for. She was scared that Kirsten might say something to reassure her fears. I hope he still wants me.  
  
Sensing, Theresa's fears, the blonde shook her head and smiled again. "He's missed you so much."  
  
With that, Theresa smiled too.  
  
XXX  
  
Ryan entered the house, feeling something was off.  
  
It had been a long day at work with the Newport Group, but he was sure that the something he felt entering the Cohen residence wasn't fatigue. Sighing, he wiped his hands on his jeans, smudging them with streaks of gray dust. Ryan was always felt a slight sense of accomplishment after a day at work. The past weeks of working at Kirsten's construction site and occassionally, even helping Kirsten's architects as they re-designed certain aspects of the home left him with a sense of importance and use. It also took his mind off a lot of his worries.  
  
Now that work was done, he could shower, change and get a few minutes to lie down and continue with the last book on his summer reading list. Heading towards the kitchen to grab a Coke, he was paused when the phone rang. It was soon answered by Rosa, but he wondered who it could be. If it was for him.   
  
If it was Theresa.  
  
For some reason, he couldn't get her out of his head. Ever since his conversation with her the night before, he felt slightly wounded and completely curious. He was opening himself up to her, making her vulnerable and she shut him down. Tell me tomorrow. What difference would it make if he told her then? Perhaps she just didn't want to hear it.  
  
"Ryan?" Kirsten's voice interrupted his Theresa-filled thoughts. He didn't reply, but instead turned to where she stood. At the bottom of the stairs, Kirsten was in a bathrobe in full make up and putting on another earring.  
  
Ryan stayed silent.  
  
"Honey, we have a dinner party tonight. It's an end of summer thing. The caterers are setting up in the backyard already, so be careful on your way there." Kirsten explained. Snapping into reality, Ryan realized what was off when he first entered. The living room was immaculately clean and there was all sorts of noise (probably the caterers) coming from the kitchen and backyard.  
  
"Okay." He replied, thinking himself stupid for not noticing the clues of the dinner party. Slowly, he headed for the pool house. Sigh. Maybe the dinner party would take his mind off Theresa? It obviously wasn't her who called.  
  
"Oh, and Ryan?" He stopped and turned, his Theresa thoughts were interrupted again. "I put an outfit on your bed. You can wear that, it's not that fancy an affair."  
  
He gave her a half smile that filled her with a warm sensation. For almost a year now, she had been his legal guardian, but every time he gave her that sort of appreciative smile, she realized yet again that she had become his mother.  
  
Returning to his thoughts of Theresa, Ryan continued his way out of the house and into his pool house where he was face to face with a new pair of charcoal linen pants, a navy blue dress shirt and a wife beater. Along with a few other items – belt, socks, etc. He really didn't feel liking going to a party, but he owed it to Kirsten for the job amongst everything else.  
  
As he threw his dirty clothes into the hamper, he realized that inside were his three other wife beaters. Contrary to popular belief, he did not have an endless supply. Instead, he had four that were used, washed and repeated as often as needed. But for the past few weeks he had subsisted with only three- he gave Theresa the other one... right? So where did the one on the bed come from?  
  
Still puzzled, he stepped into the rushing hot water of the shower.  
  
XXX  
  
He came out of the bathroom, thinking of her yet again. How he loved his girlfriend. Beads of water dripped down his neck, trickling down his tanned back and meeting the towel that was still wrapped around his waist. He shook his head, feeling somewhat like a dog. He laughed out loud to himself, or so he thought. Sitting on his bed was Theresa, smiling along with him.  
  
"Theresa?" he couldn't believe it. Wasn't she supposed to be in Atlanta or something?  
  
"Hey, I just got back today. Um, Kirsten invited me to stay for the party thing. She said I could hang out here 'til then" She seemed nervous, his eyes were still flushed with confusion.  
  
"Okay, sure. But do you mind hanging out in the office? I kind of need to get changed." He felt awkward being so naked around her.  
  
"Sure, no problem." She stood up and headed out the door.  
  
Sighing, he pulled off his towel and began getting dressed. Brushing his hair, he took a moment to think of the significance of Theresa's arrival. The thought dangled on the outskirts of his mind for a moment.  
  
Just then, Theresa's head popped back through his door.  
  
"Hey Seth, no one else knows I'm here, so could you not tell Ryan?"


	16. 16

**Author's Note: **_Just in case you didn't get it- the last scene of the last chapter was SETH. Theresa was in his room- hanging out, waiting for Ryan. Okay, this chapter. The song is Somewhere from the musical West Side Story. But more importantly: Confrontation. YES! FINALLY! Confrontation.   
This is the only chapter I've named. "Somewhere (like the bathroom)".   
__Warnings for not-so-explicit sexual content. _

Theresa sat in Sandy's office, across the hall from Seth's room where she had been previously waiting, and waited some more. Though she knew she was sticking to the plan that she herself, along with help from Kirsten, had devised. But it was killing her to know that Ryan was only a few feet away, probably naked or changing, like Seth was, at that very moment. Visions of Ryan's body immersed themselves before her coffee colored eyes and suddenly, she felt a flush of warmth run through her blood.

She waited some more, checking the clock periodically, and listening as the rest of the household prepared itself for the party to come. Boredom reared its ugly head again, but along with it came the floating spirit of anticipation. Checking the clock yet again, she realized that it would be another half an hour or so before the guests all settled and it would be time for her to show up.

Looking around the room she realized that this was probably the room that had been set aside in case the Cohen's had another a child. A child that was a car-stealing Chino "deliquent" that couldn't be trusted in their own home. If Ryan had been a good kid, they probably would have turned this room into his bedroom. But instead it was stacked with law books and law books and well, more law books.

Peeking its way through the many many law books was the familiar maroon cover of The Da Vinci Code. Everyone had told her to read it, that it would alter her faith, but she never had the free time. Well, this was a good a time as any. She picked it up and began to read. Patiently waiting for Kirsten to tell her it was time for her performance.

XXX

As the sky was covered in darkness, the Cohen home was flooded with Newport socitey. Kirsten, looking stunning a Roberto Cavalli summer dress, walked through her own backyard with much difficulty. Asides from the painful straps on her Ferragamos, it was the dozens of people, smiling, greeting her, hauling her into conversations, that prevented her from heading to her destination- the pool house.

When she finally got there, she was face to face with a clean, sweet smelling Ryan. He smiled as she walked in the door, respectfully pulling the earphones out.

"Sorry. I'm tired." he explained why he wasn't at the party. She understood him and in any other situation would have let the boy rest by himself. But this wasn't a normal situation.

"Ryan, why don't you just go out for a bit. It's past eight, just hang around for a bit. Have a drink." She couldn't believe that she was offering the seventeen year old boy a drink and neither could he. But for the past weeks, since he returned to the Cohen home, he'd been craving a beer or anything else alcoholic. To his own fault, he was too respectful of the Cohens to go against their wishes and drink.

So now, he followed Kirsten out the door and to the bar, where he sipped his Vodka Seven slowly. Kirsten, with a drink of her own, stood by him for a moment, her eyes drifting towards the small stage that had been set up for the live band that she had hired. Just then the lead singer announced a special guest. Kirsten turned to Ryan, waiting impatiently for his face to change from stone to surprise. On the stage a familiar looking dark haired girl in an asymetrical gray top and matching mini skirt took the stage, Ryan's face didn't change.

He stared harder and harder, Kirsten followed his gaze to the girl, but knew that he still didn't recognize her. Maybe it was the make up, in the past few months he had only seen her in times when she looked like crap. As the band began to play, Kirsten noticed a movement in Ryan's throat. He swallowed again. His jaw tightened.

On the stage, the girl began to sing.

"_There's a place for us, somewhere a place for us..._"

Pure shock flushed through Ryan's face, his drink slipped from his hand and shattered glass overtook the ground on which they stood. Kirsten knew he would, as Theresa said, freak out. But she had at least expected him to smile. This Ryan's face was still in stony shock. He turned and ran. Not even waiting for Theresa to finish her song.

XXX

In the bathroom, he bent over the sink and splashed water on his face. Delicately dabbing it with the nearest hand towel. Even after the cold water on his face, he still couldn't grasp what he had just seen. It had been Theresa there, on the stage, singing. He didn't understand. Confusion and shock filtered through him, but sense got in their way. He had been longing to see her, wanting to see her, wishing to see her again. And now his wish had come true. It was just so unbelievable. It was just too unbelievable.  
  
I wonder why she's here. That thought passed through his mind over a dozen times, modest as always he couldn't admit to himself that he knew the reason she came back. He was the reason. Regardless, he needed to hear it from her own lips. In her own words. In the sweet sexy voice he had just heard singing.  
  
His mind made up, he straightened his shirt and opened the bathroom door, only to end up bumping into someone who was waiting to use the bathroom. "Theresa...?" her name hung heavy in his mouth. Looking into her dark eyes, all his thoughts were confirmed. She was there to see him. There was a longing in her. There was wanting. She didn't bother to answer him. His blue eyes sparkled in the dim lighting of the hallway, the brightness of the bathroom lights shone blindingly. As he leaned against the doorframe, he oozed with sex appeal. She wanted to tell him that she came to see him, she had missed him, she still wanted him. But instead she brought her face to meet his and covered his lips with her own.

For endless moments they just stood against the doorframe, the wood digging into his back as she leaned against his body. She kissed him hungrily and he gave her everything he could to satisfy her. Their lips met over and over again in a dance of passion, their tongues fighting one another, their torsos pushed against each other. Oddly enough, they weren't pawing at each other. Each had their hands on the other's face instead of roaming their bodies.

Click. Click. Click. High heels sounded on the marble floor. Oh shit. Ryan panicked, he didn't want to be caught doing this. He wasn't embarrassed of being with Theresa, he was just embarrassed by Newport society. Pulling away from her for a moment, Ryan stepped into the bathroom taking Theresa with him as he instinctively wrapped his arm around their waist. Behind the door, the room gave them privacy to do whatever they wanted. For a split second, they just stood there, staring into each others' eyes. Registering the wants and needs of the other from the look in their eyes. Ryan could see that her eyes reflected his own feelings. Theresa was vulnerable and soft and brimming with passion and flushed with desire.

He obeyed the commands he saw in her eyes and began kissing her again. He pushed her body against the wall and devoured her mouth, he felt her reciprocate the roughness as her nails dug into the flesh of his shoulders. His face pressed against hers, his nose flattening against hers. His hands began to tug at her shirt, placing one beneath the soft fabric he carressed the delicate smoothness of her belly, then rising to the more sensitive parts of her anatomy. Her hands busied themselves with ripping the buttons of his shirt, tearing it open to massage the muscles of his chest and stomach. She loved the feel of him beneath her fingers. At the same time, his other hand found its way to her hip, holding her steady as she shuddered from the feel of his warm hands on her breasts. Stroking her thigh, he lifter her right leg. Willingly, she wrapped it around him and pulled him even closer to her.

With her leg encircling his waist, the front of her skirt began to bunch at the waist. Ryan leaned in even closer, the front of his pants now rubbing against her. Their lips finally broke contact and she could soon feel his hot breath against her neck. Her breath was ragged, her head leaned back, her eyes focused on the lights streaming from the fixture overhead. Tracing his lips on the hollow of her neck, she shuddered again, the movement arousing him even more. She felt him stiffen against her and his mouth began to form words on her skin.

I've been dreaming of you. You don't know how long I've wanted this. I'm so happy that we're finally together again.

She froze. Her eyes flying wide open, her body stiffening. Looking ahead of her, she saw directly into her own eyes. The mirror revealed two people full of lust and desperation.

"I don't want this." Her voice was small and frightened. His hands continued to glide across her body.

"What?" The sound of his voice bounced agains the soft flesh of her chest.

"I don't want this." She repeated, her breath still ragged, but her voice more firm. "No. Ryan." Immediately, she wanted to take back the harshness of her tone. In the brief moment before he pulled himself off her, she felt his body tense against hers.

Alone against the wall, Theresa quickly straightened her clothes. All the while ranting to herself. "I can't believe this. I didn't come here for this. Okay, I wanted this. But no this this. Not like this. We're so much more than this. Why couldn't we talk? Why don't I have self control." She continued mumbling the same sort of phrases as she ran her fingers through the waves of her hair, desperately trying to look presentable.

She stopped talking when she heard Ryan's hand slap across the sink. Looking up, she saw her flushed face in the mirror just before she turned to the blue eyed boy. His eyes weren't the dancing blue they were when they made eye contact during her song. They weren't the fierce blue as he looked at her with desire. They were navy almost black with shame.

"I'm sorry." It was more than an apology. "I shouldn't have. I never wanted to- This isn't- Didn't want to take advantage of you." He hung his head down.

"Oh Ryan," she took a step towards her, placing a hand on his warm cheek. Immediately, he had the urge to grab her and kiss the sense out of her. But he couldn't move. "I came here to see you, because... Because you're you. And I'm me. And we need to talk. I want to hear everything you have to say about me. You have to talk to me Ryan. Before we can... Before this..." She lowered her eyes. "can happen."

He looked up at her, knowing that everything she had just said was the honest truth. The two of them should have known better than to fall into a mad fury of passion. If they learned anything from their past it should have been that. But sometimes, just feeling her breath on his skin sent shivers through him. He couldn't help it. Now, he wanted to continue on- but he couldn't. Instead, he leaned against the sink, shirt still open, cheeks still tainted red. And watched as she turned and left. He knew she needed time to herself.

It was hard for him not to chase after her. But then again, he was hard too.


	17. 17

On the driveway, Ryan felt a bit of déjà vu. He was trying to keep the cigarette in his mouth from being seen by the people in the house. But it had been almost a year since the first time he had done that. Almost a year since he first came to the Cohen house. Almost a year since he first left Theresa all alone in Chino.  
  
The sky was dark, not in a sort of beautiful poetic way, but covered in darkness and everything darkness represented. Theresa had never liked the dark. Brightness, lights, sunshine, candles- that was her thing. It wasn't a phobia of the night or the color black, it was just her preference. Ryan didn't really have a preference but he knew Theresa had a point. Brightness and light were always associated with the color white. White was everything they wanted. Not racially or in terms of fashion or even the color of their house. White symbolized their dreams. In their lives, they didn't want much. Money, love- that all faded. They wanted peace. They wanted out of the gray areas and into the light. Peace. Together.  
  
Ryan sighed as he thought of her. The feel of her body was still on his palms, her kisses fresh on his mouth, his every breath inhaled her signature scent of vanilla. And as he thought of her, all of her, he didn't feel comfort or contentment. Not the way he thought it would be after seeing her again. He was feeling like hell had just bounced across him wearing soccer cleats. And he felt like he deserved more of it. All his life, he swore never to become like those men in his old neighborhood that beat their wives or their kids. The ones that screwed around and spent their money on bottles of cheap gin and tattoos of symbols of strength. Those were the types of men who ended up where Trey was now. Not for stealing cars or money, but for hurting people. Taking a life in a street fight, forcing themselves on the wrong women. Just to prove they were strong.  
  
Ryan didn't care about strong. Well, as a testosterone filled male, he cared about being strong. But he didn't want to flaunt his strength, not in hurtful actions or ink on his flesh. He didn't want any unnecessary attention or any unnecessary violence. However, he knew he was strong. And moreover, he knew he was stronger than those bastards that made women cry and beg for mercy. He was better than the men that forced nothing but fear unto others.  
  
But now he felt like he had turned into them. He loved Theresa. He loved her. He loved everything about her. He loved the memories. Yet, he had become a man that she had to push away. That cornered her in a bathroom and tried to force himself on her. The cigarette in his mouth began to taste sour. Remembering the fear in her eyes as she pushed him away made him gag.  
  
Ryan was ashamed of himself. And he knew that it would be better for the both of them, if he never spoke to her again- at the risk of hurting her again. But he couldn't do that. The very essence of his being told him that he needed to find her, to explain, to talk and most importantly to apologize.  
  
Because he knew she would forgive him, that's just who she was. That's just how they were. He was Ryan and she was Theresa and they always forgave.  
  
XXX  
  
A little over a month ago, when Ryan came home on Sunday afternoon, his Chino $40 dollars a week home, he'd find Theresa on their bed. In nothing but her underwear. Usually, she had something like a pitcher of KoolAid on the night table. The solid pieces of ice would slowly melt away into the sweet liquid as she slept on top of the covers, with her clothes cast aside on Ryan's side of the bed. He knew that she was probably dreaming of snow or at least air conditioning, and bits of guilt began to form in his mouth. Letting them sit there for a moment, he would stare at her pregnant form and wish their lives were different.  
  
But they weren't. He was Ryan and she was Theresa and they were playing the game with the cards they had been dealt. So, he swallowed up the guilt and picked up the pitcher of KoolAid. Maliciously, he'd smile as he placed the cold object against her skin and watched as she jumped and screamed.  
  
"What the fuck, Ryan? Are you trying to kill me!?"  
  
She wouldn't let him answer, she'd just sit up, shake the sleep away and smack him. His shoulder was probably the part of his body that suffered the most abuse. From women at least. There was the biting and grabbing and the nails- and he'd never even notice til after the sex. But with Theresa, there was also the habit of smacking him. All the time. It was her display of affection. At least that was his interpretation.  
  
So Theresa would just sit there with her head resting against the wall, the rest of her clothes still in a pile by her legs, staring at Ryan. She knew that he wasn't just looking at her because she was naked. She knew he saw her as just Theresa. Not girlfriend or fiancée or anything like that. She knew that he didn't really see her the way he saw Marissa. Marissa, Theresa thought of her as something nice and sweet, like chocolate. But the kind that was too sweet. That got caught in your throat and made you cough and made it hard to breathe. That was Marissa. Well, Ryan still had some bits of infatuation with her. Some parts of him, not even Theresa could tap into, but those parts were few.  
  
As she stared at him, Ryan would usually say something like "Why would I try to kill the half naked girl on my bed?" And Theresa would smack him again. By that time, he'd want revenge and pick up her pitcher and press the frosty glass on her belly. And knowing that if she moved the bed would be sheet-less later on that night, she would keep perfectly still as she sent Ryan evil looks.  
  
But he smiled at her, pulling the pitcher away only slightly, she knew that she wouldn't be able to stay mad. Because she couldn't. So she'd look at him and say "I hate the heat! Fuck, I'll forgive you if you fix the weather... or at least take my mind off it."  
  
And he'd lean in to kiss her clavicle and her throat. Telling her, "I could definitely take your mind off it." Then he'd look straight at her and smile. "Well, as long as you forgive me." By then, he wouldn't care whether she forgave him or not, because sooner or later she would anyway. She was a forgiving person, even though apologies didn't matter when the bed sheets had to be taken to the laundry mat for the thousandth time this week. But when their bodies made contact, KoolAid on the sheets would be the furthest things from their minds.  
  
XXX  
  
Seth and Summer were just saying their goodbyes to one another, when they noticed Ryan on the driveway. Summer clung on to Seth's hand, preventing her boyfriend from starting a fight with his "brother". As much as Summer detested the way the smell of smoke got into her hair and stuck to her clothes, she knew that Seth hated Ryan's smoking even more.  
  
"Leave him alone. He's pissed." Summer said quietly, rubbing her thumb across her boyfriend's palm. His big brown eyes weren't looking into hers at that moment, instead they were fixated on Ryan.

"The love of his life just showed up and sang to him. Why would he be pissed?" said Seth in his typical joking tone but there was a fragility in his voice, that only someone like Summer could hear. Ever since Ryan returned to the Cohen house after the miscarriage, he wasn't the same. He wasn't the same Ryan that smiled and gave Summer an amused glance whenever she called him Chino. He wasn't the same Ryan that laughed when Seth beat him at Grand Theft Auto. He wasn't the same best friend that had left for Chino.

"I don't know, but I saw her running off earlier." Summer answered honsetly. "They must have had a fight or something, coz it looked like she was totally crying. Messed up mascara and everything." Seth smirked. Leave it to his girlfriend to find the relation to make up in the whole fiasco. But concern still overtook Seth. When he first returned to Newport, all he wanted was for Ryan to come back too. When Ryan finally came back, he wanted everything to go back the way it was before. When they returned from there trip to the East Coast, Seth realized that all he wanted for Ryan was for Ryan to be happy.

And to be happy, Ryan needed to be with Theresa.

"Come on," Summer nudged Seth's thoughts from his own head. "They'll figure it out. You know Chino."

Seth looked at the short brunette in wonder. Did she really have that much faith in Ryan and Theresa? Was there something she didn't know? And as if she heard those very questions in his mind, she tousled his curly locks and smiled. "When it's love, it figures itself out."

In that instant, he stopped thinking about Ryan and Theresa and all the questions that the couple evoked in Seth's mind. He thought of Summer. And Summer. And Summer. And he knew she was right. After all, through all the trials and tribulations, the two of them were together now. Fingers interlocked with fingers, eyes meeting eyes. Love. It figures itself out.


	18. 18

**Author's Note: **_The end draws nearer. Thank you to all the reviewers, you guys rock! The song is "Somewhere" from West Side Story.  
And I still own nothing. Sucks._

After her encounter with Ryan, Theresa decided to get out of the Newport as soon as possible. Dressed in comfy sweatpants, a sports bra and her faded denim jacket, she slung her purple backpack over her shoulder and slowly began to push her suitcase out of the Cohen's garage. She tugged at the monstrous black suitcase that Eva had bought her on the day she decided to return to Chino. Inside were the meager possessions she brought from her home mixed along with the many new clothes and trinkets that she collected from acquaintances in Atlanta.  
  
In Atlanta, she spent most of her time alone, miserable. But as she threw herself into physical therapy and work, she realized that there was life outside Ryan Atwood. Somewhere in the second week after her run-in with Damon, she realized that. She was halfway through creating a menu cover on Photoshop with her neighbor's computer, when she looked up at a clock and didn't think of Ryan. For once, everything didn't go back to him. For once, he wasn't near her or on the phone with her or in her thoughts or singing to her in her dreams. For once, she was completely and utterly without Ryan- and it felt like shit.  
  
That was when she started planning her return trip. That was when she decided she needed to go back. So that even if she couldn't be his girlfriend, she would still be near him, near memories of him, near places they once went together. So she could have all of that back. So she could be whole.  
  
And now, she was leaving this house, his house, to go back to where their whole story began. To where visiting Newport was a fantasy and living there, a dream.  
  
"Hey kid, where you headed?" the voice was soft and gentle, the tone Theresa was accustomed to hearing from Kirsten, but this voice was male. Her eyes tilted upwards, it was a mess of dark hair, an untied tie, a beer bottle in a large hand and unruly eyebrows.  
  
"Hi Mr. Cohen," she forced herself to smile. "I figured that it was late and I've got to get back to Chino." She shocked herself with the smoothness of which the lie came out. Well, it wasn't a complete lie. Yes, it was clearly late. Yes, she needed to get back to Chino. But she just wanted to leave the Cohen house with her dignity still in tact. She feared that staying there would start another chapter of the already dysfunctional Ryan and Theresa story.  
  
"Theresa, it's much too late for you to be driving all the-"  
  
"I've got enough money for a cab." She interrupted softly.  
  
"A cab?!" The way Sandy said those words, its as if he had grown up in Newport rather than the Bronx. "No, no, it could be dangerous and I don't want you risking that. Go on back inside and I tell Kirsten to set up the guest bedroom."  
  
"No, Mr. Cohen, I really-"  
  
"No, you're staying." It was his turn to politely interrupt, if there was such a thing. "And call me Sandy."  
  
"Thanks, Sandy." She smiled meekly. "You and Kirsten have done too much for me already."  
  
"No such thing as too much, kid," he laughed. "And besides, its our way of paying you back for that beautiful performance you graced us with tonight." For a split second, Theresa had no idea what he was talking about. Then she floated back to before the crying, before the bathroom and on stage in front of Newport society.  
  
"I did West Side Story when I was thirteen. And it was always my favorite production." Her eyes sparkled as she remembered the rush of being on stage, of being Maria. "Ryan, he always hated that one the most. He was too little to get a lead role." She suppressed a light giggle. "But it was my favorite. I loved it."  
  
"It's a great show," Sandy shared her smile. "Can't beat dancing gangs." Theresa raised an eyebrow at the word gang. Sandy wanted to hit himself, he should have known better than to joke about something like that with a girl of that background. Apologetically he offered to help bring Theresa's suitcase into the house and willingly, she complied.  
  
XXX  
  
"I wonder why they aren't speaking." Kirsten's voice was genuinely worried as she left the guest bedroom and headed back to her own. She was thinking out loud to herself and didn't expect a response at all. Yet, she could feel the presence of another person in the hallway.  
  
"Just give them time, Mom." His voice was warm and yet came with the sentiment that Seth was merely stating the obvious.  
  
"They've been on separate coasts for over a month!" she replied defensively.  
  
"They'll come around." He spoke in a very matter-of-fact tone. It was starting to make Kirsten wonder, was this really her meek talkative bubbly Seth?  
  
"Why aren't you worried?!"  
  
"Because," he said dramatically as Kirsten smirked noticing the return of her son's personality. "Love figures itself out."  
  
And before Kirsten could even raise an eyebrow, Seth disappeared into his room. Odd as he may be, that boy could definitely be sage like at times. Maybe he was picking it up from his women? Kirsten's eyebrow stayed put, but the corners of her lip raised into a smile.  
  
XXX  
  
He couldn't seem to focus on any one task. There were four buttons undone from his shirt. His shoes and socks lay all across the floor, far from their usual home beneath his desk. The toothbrush was naked on the counter, wondering why he was there without any toothpaste on. The rest of his pack of cigarettes was in the trashcan. And the iPod was playing music that no one could hear.  
  
Needless to say, Ryan didn't quite know what to do with himself.

At the moment he was considering heading to a bar. If he was lucky the alcohol would affect him badly enough to stomp out the image of Theresa's face from his mind. He had thought about drinking her image away many times for the past month, but he never did. That was because despite the painful longing he felt every time he thought of her smiling face, he was happy just to be able to see her face. Even if it was just in his mind.

Now, when she was so closeby, her image haunted him. All he could see each time he blinked or let his mind wander for mere seconds was her face, frightened and rejecting.

He wanted to hit himself. Had he absolutely no self control? Each time he envisioned her return, which had been every night and spare moment over the past month, he saw something special, romantic. He heard the song that she had sung on stage.

_There's a place for us _

They would lock hands, the comfortable gesture they had mastered years and years ago. They would speak in soft voices and Ryan would finally be able to confess that he felt. Theresa teased him mercilessly on days when his face cracked for no emotion. "You don't feel, do you?" He would tell her everything he felt. The hurt that overcame him when she left. The anger he felt when he saw her in the hospital bed. The lonliness when she was so far away.

_Somewhere a place for us_

He envisioned the two of them discussing a future. That part was still hazy, because matters of reality were always the most blurred in his mind. Imagination took hold of fantasy and dreams. Reality distorted what he wanted, what he knew he needed. He would move back to Chino for her, he had done it before. Though there was no baby now, he had a greater reason to go. He loved her.

_Peace and quiet and open air_

Ryan knew it didn't matter where they lived, as long as they were together. Yeah right. He knew he was lying to himself with that statement, because there was more than a world of difference from living in Chino than living in Newport. There were similarities in everything, nice houses, broken houses, people were still the same. Everyone was in your business and there was jealousy and vengeance and finacial troubles. But in Newport, the same way as in Chino, Theresa managed to make him forget the greater problems. When they touched, her head leaning upon his chest, he was somewhere beautiful.  
  
_Wait for us_

He wondered what she was doing now. Whether or not she would come back was a mystery, unlike her. Theresa was stable, dependent, constant. Everything that Ryan couldn't be for her. And everything he had just jeopordized and probably lost. That's what you get when you think with the wrong head. He couldn't chase after her, because even with the tremendous love that echoed in the bones and soul of his being he was still scared. Could they still make it together? He knew he would have to wait and see. And it was this part he hated the most.  
  
_Somewhere._

He sat on his bed and stared blankly towards the windows in front of him. Beyond the thin panes of glass, he saw darkness. Darkness, how fitting it was for it to surround him in a situation like this. It was everything he didn't want. He wanted light. He wanted peace. He wanted Theresa.

_We'll find a new way of living_

He closed his eyes yet again, and this time welcomed her face. Concentrating hard, he floated back into memories. He was with her, hands locked together on the small of her back. Her head leaned back. Laughter tumbling from her lips. And he realized, it wasn't a memory. They were somewhere unknown, a beach somewhere. The sunlight dancing on their faces, quiet waves splashing in the background. Him and her. Together. Somewhere, future or past, he wasn't sure, but they were happy. And that was all that mattered.

_Will find there's a way of forgiving_

Opening his eyes again, he entered reality again. The hazed, crazed life he called reality. But something seemed different, there was a stillness of the black sky. The quiet before a storm. And almost as if he knew there would be a knock, he stood and openend the door, wondering what stood in the darkness. Facing a mess or dark hair and large, beautiful, wondering eyes. He wasn't sure but he could swear, that the moment they locked eyes the darkness around them started to fade.

_Somewhere._

"Theresa." It was one word. And in it were all of Ryan's hopes. It was over a decade of memories. Kisses stolen behind the school. Hugs of reassurance. Phone calls out of boredom. Innocent sleep overs. Band aids on his cuts. Packs of frozen peas on his black eyes. Escorting one another to school dances. Not-so-innocent sleep overs. A child. It was the light in his darkness. It was love.


	19. 19

**Author's Note:**_As much as it pains me, the story's done. Hope you enjoyed their ride. Epilogue to come.  
__Never owned The O.C._

She shifted her weight from one foot to the next, wondering why she was there.

When Kirsten and Sandy helped her get settled into the guestroom, she was tired and more than eager to hop in a bed of thousand dollar Egyptian sheets. But as she pulled on fresh pajamas, catching sight of herself in the bathroom mirror, a tiny thought of Ryan implanted itself in her head. The thought grew rapidly, until his eyes were the only thing she could see, his hand the only thing she could feel, his laugh the only sound in her ears, his kiss the lingering tase on her lips. Everything went back to him.

And for the first time in weeks, she thought of him and knew that he was only steps away. Carefully creeping out of the main house, she tried to make as little noise as possible. She was already taking advantage of the Cohen's kindness, she didn't want to prove herself ingrateful and disrespectful. The values that her mother so desperately tried to instill in her were finally exposing themselves.

The bare floors were ice against her feet, but she couldn't go back to the room for her slippers. She knew that if she did, she'd lose her nerve and not see Ryan til breakfast.

_Thump. Thump._

She could feel her heart beat grow stronger the closer she got to the poolhouse. There was a light still on, a lamp. Ryan never left appliances on at night, a habit formed from the days his mother and father would brawl over the seemingly high figure of the electricity bill. Theresa didn't know why she thought of that just then, but she did. And eleven year old Ryan lying next to her in bed, in an innocent sleep over, was the clearest image in her mind.

_Thump Thump Thump._

Her heart beat grew stronger as she stood in front of the pool house door. Her palms damp with nervousness, she slowly lifted a hand to knock. But before her fist ever made contact with the door, it opened.

_Thump-Thump Thump-Thump._

"Theresa," his voice was a greeting, a welcome, an acknowledgement, a memory, a beacon of light.

"Hey," the word came out in a croak as she was suddenly at a mind blank. He looked at her with deep penetrating eyes searching for her thoughts. Moments passed as they stood in silence, one inside the pool house, one barely outside the threshold. His stocky frame was vast compared to her sinewy limbs. His mop of blonde brown hair slightly above the dark waves on her head. She returned his gaze, but gave up none of the emotions she kept inside. Ryan Atwood wasn't the only one who could remain stoic and stonefaced.

"What, uh..." he tried to not sound awkward. "What's up?" Stretching his arm above him, he leaned against the door frame. Without knowing it, his little gesture forced a herd of butterflies through Theresa's stomach. She exhaled in a sigh. No other guy, not even Eddie, could have this affect on her. It was just Ryan. His aura, his spirit, his energy. It incapacitated her and at the same time invigorated her, if that was even possible.

"I..." she gave a weak smile. "couldn't sleep." He looked at her quizically for a few seconds. Perhaps because he hoped she was there for a different reason. Perhaps he hoped that she would tell the truth and relieve some of the ridiculous tension that encircled them. But he accepted her answer and stepped into the night with her.

"You want to hang out?" He waited for her to nod before closing the pool house door shut and heading towards the pool chaises. "Here?" Everything he said lay somewhere on the border of statement and question. It was obvious that he was as nervous as she.

"So-"

"Listen-"

They spoke at the same time, then paused to stare at the other. Offering the other the chance to speak first, curious at what they had to say. His eyes dug holes into her flesh, trying straight through her tough exterior and walls of protection, trying to see what was really in her heart. On the other hand, she couldn't bring herself to look at him. Chocolate eyes drifted to the darkness, focusing on the glassy waters of the infinity pool. The liquid crystal reflected and distorted the moon. Looking at that image, Theresa knew just how the moon felt, distorted and changed. Whole and yet not quite real. It was her feeling too.

"You first," she whispered, still not looking up at Ryan.

Not willing to lose his chance to speak and hopeful that his words could change Theresa's current opinion of him, Ryan answered.

"Listen, I just wanted to say..." slight hesitation. "that I'm really sorry about earlier. It's just that I saw you and you look so... But that's not the way I think of you. Well, it is but its not the only way I... think. Of. You." She smiled inwardly, listening to him ramble. "Because, you know, me and you. We're..."

His face began to flush as he sought for the proper words. The words he had thought of over and over again but seemed to disappear now that they really needed to be said.

"Ryan." her voice was firm and stopped the whirlwind of thoughts in his thoughts. "It's okay."

XXX

He had done it. He apologized. And he still didn't feel better.

Watching as she sat down on the ground, her back leaning against the chaise, he just wanted to hug her. He didn't want words, words were never enough. He knew himself. His own intensity. Words couldn't handle him.

Relief ran through him as she looked up from where she sat and nodded slightly. And on command, he sat next to her. Close but not quite touching. He wanted to though. Touch her, feel the softness of her skin beneath his hands, trace the scar on her shoulder, run his fingers through her hair. He didn't.

Him and her and touching. Broken relationships and jealous exes and babies- just some of the by-products. He couldn't put her through anything like that again. And then he realized that it wasn't just love that he felt for her. It was a need to protect her. It was self sacrificial. It was frightening. It was the will to make her happy, whatever that meant, even if it wasn't him.

"Ry," she pulled him away from his thoughts again. "Look for Orion." He noticed for the first time since she sat down that her eyes were fixed on the sky above them. Neither of them really liked astronomy, or stars, or the moon, or night, in general. The darkness never felt good. The darkness never brought anything good with it.

He knew that she loved Orion though. It was the first constallation she ever learned. The three stars of his belt hovered immediately above their old street, and on clear nights, the whole constallation could be seen. That one night, when Trey and Arturo disappeared while "procuring" a new car, Theresa and Ryan stayed up the whole night. Sitting on her window sill, one leg in the room, one leg out, he held her close and they counted stars. Just to keep awake.

She stopped after nineteen. She got bored she said. Instead of counting, she began to trace her own constellations. You see that one. That's Orion, he's a real constallation. He reminds me of you. He oughta be called Oh-Ryan. Her giggles were contagious and he laughed with his mouth on her hair.

"It's there." he said, squinting at the sky. "Orion." Three stars of his belt hovered above the Pacific Ocean, just left of the pool house roof.

"I can't see it."

"Doesn't mean its not there." He didn't know why he said that. That's what happened when he spoke. Sometimes, things came out that he didn't know what to do with.

"Like air, huh?" She ran her fingers through the space immediately in front of them. Making shadows on the ground, feeling the night air. As if she could really touch it. He wanted to reach out and join her. Place his hands atop her long fingers and join them.

"And other stuff too." Dammit Ryan. Stop speaking if you don't know what the hell you're talking about.

"Like God?" She turned her face slightly, if she moved any closer, their noses would touch. He could feel her breath, if he listened hard enough, he would hear her heart. He wondered if she could hear his.

"Yeah, and fear." His voice was soft and breathy.

"And hope." She blinked innocently. He could have kissed her right then. Soft and gentle, like the ocean breeze. He could have closed his eyes, and taken them both away from the darkness of the night and into a better place. Freed them from the treading in gray matter any longer. But he wouldn't. Not yet.

"And..." he swallowed fear and inhaled courage. "And love." There. He said it. She knew understood him now, she knew it now. He would be free. It would all be better. And the sun would set on their gray area, dawn would break with brightness and hope and a future.

He searched her eyes and saw the answers to all his questions. She stole every doubt from his mind. He could see it. Soft and cool, her fingers found their way to his.

"And love." she echoed. It was then he closed his eyes. His head leaned in and hovered above hers. The moment their lips touched, everything else faded.

No Chino, no Newport, no Atlanta. No Cohens, no Eddie, no baby gone away, no Marissa, no brothers in jail. No doubts, no apprehensions. Nothing but the two of them.

It was everything they ever wanted. Away from everything that sought to break them. Peace. Out of the darkness, into the light. Slipping from gray areas and finally finding the silver linings.

"And love."

-----END------


End file.
